After watching a couple have a nervous breakdown and try to take out the people around them, simply because they didn’t realize they’d have to push to get off the subway… just like everyone else does… (In fact, the woman almost slugged the guy in front of her, but he moved out of the way just in time)
Anyways. That’s not even the strangest part of the morning.
One thing I always get a kick out of NYC’ers is how quickly they can change in what they’re doing to avoid dealing with the “elephant in the room”. How easily a bunch of NY’ers would walk past a naked cowboy, or a homeless person peeing in the corner of the street. Or like this morning… A very very very large man sitting on the subway stairs leading off the platform.
He just sat there, staring, on the stairs. Not saying a word. And I watched the seas part, and people walk around him lik eit was no big deal. Nobody asked him to move. Nobody said a word. It was as if he was simply a pole in their way. In some ways, I’m not enough of a NY’er. I didn’t walk up those steps, mostly because the look in his eye reminded me of a caged animal, of someone who you knew was utterly and completely at the end of their rope, and honestly, I didn’t want to put my life that close to someone I couldn’t connect with at all. But people walked past him, and as I walked to the next set of stairs, I watched him. His eyes never moved, never wavered, never blinked.
Sometimes I really get shivers at how much loss there is here in the city…
The past couple of days have been warm and luxurious, causing many people to ditch the heavy coats and layer up in sunscreen instead. But this morning lovely Mr. Winter reared his much not needed head and spit out below freezing temperatures reminding us that it’s not quite summer yet.
Which is probably why I had the distinct unpleasure of seeing a mound of fur parade down 14th street on my way to work. Yes, a man wearing a bear fur coat (with the head of the bear as a hoodie) wandered his way towards alphabet city, adorned with the spoils of his hunting… or just his craziness.
I guess you see it all in NYC!
Saturday was St. Patty’s day. And in NYC that means that all the little douchebags who can’t really hold their alcohol, decided to test that theory along with their livers. That’s fine. But why do you have to test your balance also? I mean, stay inside, stop roaming the sidewalks like you’re auditioning for a zombie extra in the Walking Dead… Because darlings and dollfaces… You got the part!
That being said. I must give credit where credit is due, and while I really was hoping that the scourge of the sidewalks would just wipe away, I did get to see someone at least, maneuver, like a boss.
Cue the drunken girl
Cue the heels
Cue the pole as part of the scaffolding.
And cue her face, smashing into it. Her forehead melding with the cold metal…
And finally… cue my gasp… then my complete and utter disbelief as she stepped backwards, without registering a bit of pain, and continued on her way… her shuffle reminiscent of Bernie’s from Weekend at Bernies…
Sure, she fell into a metal pole. But that metal pole didn’t stand a chance against her slosh.
Party on drunk girl. Party on.
No. Honestly. What year is it? Because based on the girl I saw today who got into the elevator, I should be about 2 or 3 years old… Because she looked like she was a blast from the past, or maybe she had just jumped on her time machine and blinked to the 21st century.
Ripped, bleach washed jeans
BRIGHT green pumps
Michael Jackson black jacket with shoulder pads and those silver toggle closings…
HUGE bright green hoops
I wanted to ask her if she was making a fashion statement or if she was a visitor from the past, but she got off the elevator too soon. I guess I’m just doomed to believe that she is trying to relive the past… rather than a member of it.
Had a craving for Pizza hut, so meandered my way down to Penn Station and went to the food court and picked myself up a personal pan pizza. They really are nastily the best pizza ever. But I digress.
As I walked back through Penn Station, towards 7th avenue, I witnessed a National Guardsman, dancing and singing. I mean moving and grooving. People even clapped as they passed.
I like it when people are that happy at what they do.
Or that bored.
I also like it when members of the National Guard are bored… because it means that all is well.
I hate people who hold the doors open on the subway. It holds up the train, and it makes them look like an idiot. This morning however was the best.
The lady got stuck, half way in, and half way out, and had a brownie in her mouth… Instead of trying to push the doors open, she used her hands to take the brownie out of her mouth, and complain… “Why don’t you do something and help me?” The best was that the guy standing next to me, instead of helping her into the car, pushed her… The last thing I saw as the doors slid closed was her putting the grubby brownie back in her mouth and flipping the bird.
In my profession, I often travel, quickly, in a whirlwind fashion, and totally and completely randomly.
That being said. This past Monday we traveled from my office in NYC to the client’s office just outside of DC. We took a 2.5 hour train ride (each way) for a 1.5 hour meeting. I find that to be exceptionally ridiculous. But whatever. The fun thing about sitting on an Acela is that you get to fly by some really random places and see things that you don’t normally see up in the air, or on the roads.
Such as the elephant that I saw wandering around in a parking lot somewhere between Philadelphia and Baltimore. Mind you, it was just a glance, so I can’t be entirely sure what it was doing, or why it was there… But there was an elephant. In a parking lot. By itself… just outside of Philly.