So, I went to meet my gal at Penn Station the other night after she went out to spend the day with relatives and the first thing she says when she sees me?
“Someone took a huge dump on the train platform! Not just one, but three giant piles of turds!” I laughed, and suggested that maybe it was someone’s dog that pooped there. “Hell no!” she stated. “That was human dukies. No way was that some Pomeranian poop! She was obviously disgusted. Perhaps a bit mortified.
Of course, being the jaded New Yorker that I am I wanted to go down and take pictures of this monster pile of human excrement, but the look she gave me with the side-eye suggested otherwise if I knew what was good for me. Heck, I have enough food porn pics on my cell phone, so why not just add this to my collection? Salad pic. Soup pic. Salmon pic. Dessert pic. Giant turd pic. Fits right in! Continue reading Is That a Human Turd? The Mysteries of NYC Living.
Am I weirdo magnet?
That is a question I ask myself constantly while living in NYC. Well actually, just not here but it seems pretty much everywhere I travel. I just don’t get it. They come out of the woodwork, out of the shadows, out of the dark corners of my mind to confront me in the strangest of ways. Now, I know that living in NYC it’s pretty much weirdo central. From what I have been told only a few spots rival it. Maine for one?
Just the other night it happened to me again. I had nothing much planned so I took my computer downtown to a nice coffee-house that stays open until midnight and offers free WiFi, along with a really tasty iced café mocha I must say. I was minding my own business doing some work on my resume and job hunt. Earbuds in and listening to my tunes. Every once in a while, I looked up and noticed the place was busy but not totally packed. There was a jumble of empty seats spread throughout. They are basically round tables for two. Of course, as with any coffee joint the tables near outlets are at a premium. WiFi hogs such as myself covet these. I noticed this one dude sitting alone at a table along the windows by one of these. He was not drinking or eating anything. Just sitting there. For an hour. Staring ahead into space. Like one of those creepers you see in a club at the edge of the dance floor holding a beer and leering at the girls dancing. Yes, that guy.
The one you hope does not approach you. Continue reading Am I A Weirdo Magnet?