My commute today gave me a couple of typically New York moments.
On the train in, a man, dirty and dressed in denim, carried a jambox from which came blaring pop tunes from the 1980s. Predictably, another man, swathed in a smooth-cut suit, piped up to get the dirty man to pipe down. It did not work, but instead prompted ethnicity-based complaints about some of the performing groups that go up and down the trains, playing songs and passing well-made hats around.
When I came out of the subway, I saw a man in a security service uniform ride a bike across 35th Street. That is not unusual in itself. That the bike was intended for a different rider than the man--being a child's model in pink with white tires and wickerwork basket--was a bit odd. So, too, were the man's rose-patterned galoshes, Peruvian knit cap, and green foam Liberty crown.
Only in New York...
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