It is impossible to scan a diamond. I put it on the scanner, and it just turns into this white flash of light. Impossible.
I have found many things in the streets of New York. I found a wallet once. With $300 in cash and all the papers and several credit cards. I found the owner too, with a bit more effort, and gave it right back to her. She pulled out $40 out of the very wallet I gave her and paid me the finders fee. I thought that was very nice.
I found a fur hat once in Times Square. It was in the middle of the night, I was cold. The streets were almost empty. What can I tell you. A nice hat.
I found a jar full of pennies, which a homeless person must have dumped out of frustration, down in TriBeCa. Free Coffee. (I rolled them up first.)
Two days ago: a diamond. At least two, maybe three carat. Big. Cold.
It was just there, in the gutter, on West End Avenue and 93rd street.
Diamonds have this fire. You look into the face of a diamond and it just lights up. No electricity needed. It just goes *bam*. It only goes bam in one direction though. Each diamond is actually one of two twins. Diamonds represent macroscopically what they are microscopically. They look like large carbon molecules. So these objects need to be cut in the middle before they can be further prepared. Not sure what the proper term for that is. The diamond then gets all the facets, all the faces, all of them in the appropiate angles to capture the light, to make the diamond glow. In one direction. Towards its missing twin.
So when the diamond lay there in the gutter, it was face down, not glowing at all. Just a tiny, tiny bit. I walked by it at first. Did not notice it, except from the corner of my eye. I walked back, looked down and yes, there it was, this little white cone. I picked it up and wow: shining little star in the palm of my hand. Millions of years under extreme pressure made this one glow so bright. What was I supposed to do? There was no phone number on this it. It did not come with a driver’s license. Even throwing it into the postal box would probably not be the solution. I carried it home. It was cold, it was big. It was a New York City Street Diamond.
I own a Swiss army knife, one with a magnifying glass. Good enough to give the Diamond a nice inspection. It was a bit like in a movie. It was me and the Diamond of 93rd street. We had a little talk. We looked each other in the eye. The Diamond told me she was Glass. A nice big Glass “diamond”. Bright and shiny, but a bit hurt from the fall into the gutter, tiny scratches on one side. Glass. A diamond is forever. Glass lasts 15 minutes.
I tried to scan my “Diamond” in, so I can show it here in the blog. It does not want to be scanned. It is cut well enough to shine right back into the scanner and to make bright digital streaks. Oh well. Nice piece of Glass.
Just out of fun. In a corner of the scanner area, I pressed the corner of my Glass diamond against the scanner glass. My Glass Diamond, angry as she was, left a deep, tiny scratch. Very interesting. We will need to have another talk.
