Bodega Sales Slump But Many Owners Vow to Stay Open: ‘I Take Care of My Customers, And They Take Care of Me’

Puja Dhakal at her store.

By Michael McDowell

Puja Dhakal took over the lease at Park West Cafe & Deli about six months ago. Today, the subterranean corner store is stocked with essentials, including sought-after items like toilet paper and paper towels. Hot food is also available, as are a selection of Nepalese teas.

Bodegas and delis like Park West Cafe dot corners and blocks across the Upper West Side. Aside from irresistible egg sandwiches and other savory treats, they typically carry an idiosyncratic selection of household essentials, dry goods, dairy products, vegetables, over-the-counter medication, and more, from toilet brushes to toothpaste.

At night, Park West, located at 477 Central Park West on the corner of 108th Street, is a beacon of light. Even though business is down almost 80 percent due to the coronavirus pandemic, Dhakal plans to stay open.

“I’m not from here, I’m not from this country, but Central Park West is my hometown these days,” Dhakal told the Rag. “I feel so fortunate to be in this neighborhood, in this community. One of my customers, he always asks me how I’m doing, and if I need anything,” she said. “I take care of my customers, and they take care of me. We are taking care of each other.”

For decades, bodegas have served customers in neighborhoods where supermarkets are scarce—or nonexistent. Often immigrant-owned, they are businesses that serve working class customers at working class prices. Before coronavirus, many bodegas were open 24 hours a day. As business has slowed, most, but not all, have cut back on hours.

“We are going through something like we have never experienced,” said Frank Marte, head of the Bodegas and Small Business Association, a group that Marte said represents over 5,000 bodegas and small groceries citywide. “Some businesses, they’ve been doing okay, but a lot of businesses, they’ve been doing very badly—they’ve lost 30-40 percent of their business. Some people even more.”

Like many New Yorkers, bodegas are struggling to pay the rent.

“Our biggest problem right now is how we will pay the rent [in May], and the landlords are pushing,” Marte said.

Senate Bill S8125A, which would suspend rent payments for small business commercial tenants for ninety days and provide relief for mortgage holders facing financial hardship as a result of lost rent, hasn’t made significant progress toward Gov. Andrew Cuomo’s desk. Neither the governor nor the mayor have yet to take steps to assist residential and commercial renters.

“My landlord said, give me something, whatever you can, every week, but he never said he’d forgive the rent,” said Marte, who owns two bodegas in the Bronx. “Other members, the landlords have told them that they don’t care. They’ve been adding late fees,” he sighed.

Federal money, disbursed via the Small Business Administration (SBA), isn’t reaching businesses, and as rescue funds run dry, some reports indicate that national chains are gobbling up funds which were targeted to businesses with fewer than 500 employees.

But Marte said that SBA relief wasn’t accessible to bodegas in the first place, as many owners pay employees in cash and may not maintain a formal payroll. Applications are complicated, and the SBA system is prone to crashes.

“After two months, we are going to have another pandemic: of small business closing. It’s not only bodegas. Beauty parlors, barber shops, and small restaurants, how will they survive? All of them are closed now. How will they pay rent?”

To make ends meet, some bodegas aim to meet customers where they are: delivery apps. On My Bodega Online, shoppers may order their local favorites right from their smartphone. According to Eater, the app won’t be taking commissions from bodega owners during the coronavirus pandemic, but app developers do plan to eventually charge 50 cents per transaction.

The lights were off at Park Pleasant Deli, at Central Park West and 100th Street, which has temporarily closed. “Shit,” a woman wearing a mask muttered, in disbelief. The normally bustling Andy’s Deli on 74th and Amsterdam has been closed too.

But Upper West Candy Grocery, on Broadway at 99th Street, was open. A number of customers, several of whom took slow steps with the assistance of a cane or a walker, paid in cash, and left the store with small bags containing items including paper towel rolls, a few snacks, or a juice.

Over on Amsterdam, the West 82nd Grocery reopened on Monday, and shelves were mostly full.

“Are you doing better than yesterday?” a concerned customer asked the cashier, Singh.

“Much better,” he smiled. “I missed everyone.”

Singh is working more than usual, as some of his coworkers are afraid to come to the store. Many bodega owners and workers put in 12-14 hour days.

“We were scared, and we closed for a couple weeks,” Singh told the Rag. “People have no money because they’re not working right now. We’re just trying to hang in there.”

It was more or less business as usual at the West End Superette, on the corner of West End Ave and 72nd Street—aside from a new plexiglass barrier between clerk and customer, that is. As of Thursday afternoon, the Superette is one of the few businesses that remains open 24 hours.

At C.P. Yang, on Columbus Ave and 73rd Street, Rosudhir shared some of the realities of bodega life with the Rag.

“It’s me and one lady, an Indonesian lady, two of us who are here, and a couple of guys from Mexico,” he said.

A delivery arrived and Rosudhir glanced over a paper invoice before handing the delivery man cash from the register.

“I have a few customers who will come by and smoke a cigarette with me, or have a coffee,” he shrugged. “Yesterday was kind of slow, but today has been all right. We’re still open 24 hours.”

Late at night, the Upper West Side is profoundly silent. The streets are empty, so empty, that one may walk up the middle of Columbus Avenue for blocks without encountering a car, or another human being. The sound of garbage trucks may be heard from blocks away, and ambulances, though less frequent than in previous weeks, echo across the empty city canyons.

Outside of the New Parisian Deli, on Columbus and 84th Street, the Rag was brought to a halt. A crispy griddle. The smell of toasted bread; butter, eggs, and uniform slices of American cheese. Bacon.

Even during the coronavirus pandemic, you can still find breakfast at midnight on the Upper West Side.

All photos by Michael McDowell except bodega interior by Paul Brady.