Two gentlemen, whose job it is to wash the windows of our office building, just levitated by our window and scared the crap out of roughly 50 people by banging on the glass as hard as they could. They laughed, pointed at all of us desk-jockeys, and gave a celebratory high-five as they steadily continued to rise past our window, undoubtably preparing to pull their stunt for the 35th time today.
If I had that job, I don’t think banging on windows would ever get old.
Wed
Jul
23
As I stood at a urinal while a fellow fan struck up a conversation with me about the Yankees pitching staff, I realized something about the citizens of this great city. We are constantly walking the fine line between being complete strangers and intimate friends with each other. We live, commute, do laundry, drink, eat, pee, walk, sit close to each other. This physical proximity/intimacy leads to a certain feeling of emotional closeness among us. Most often this subconscious affinity lies dormant under busyness and indifference but there are those few moments when you connect with a complete stranger and interact as if you have known each other for 20 years simply because you are constantly living close to 8 million other people.
(Or maybe the guy was just a creepy old man who likes to talk to people while he pees. Another, equally/more valid psychosocial explanation for his behavior and commentary on the population of New York.)
As I sat in the right field bleachers at the Yankee game last night talking to my uncle on the phone, I realized that Section 39 in its entirety had started chanting “Lose that tie.” I turned towards them and saw a portly, sleeveless shirt-wearing, Eastern European-looking guy leading the chant, rhythmically pointing his finger at me and my (J.Crew large-dot) tie. The chant then transitioned into “buy buy buy, sell sell sell,” insinuating that I looked like a “stockbroker or something.”
After recognizing that I was in fact wearing a Yankees hat and I was one of them, the barrage of fan-on-fan heckling abated and a deal was struck when I agreed to “at least loosen it, bro.” The crowd went wild.
God, I love Yankees games, New York, and the right field bleachers.
Fri
Jul
18
A Poland Spring bottle contains .5 liters of water which is the equivalent of 16.90701135 fluid ounces. You can usually buy one of these for $1. There are 128 fluid ounces in a gallon. At this price, you are essentially paying $7.57 per gallon for that water.
