My Latest Trite Observation about Living in New York
All my social observation in NY happens in the subway, which makes sense since it is a place where people have to come into contact.
An older guy with a grey ponytail was drinking a tall boy out of a brownbag, talking to a woman who had a heavy Russian accent.
He said I'm sick of how they don't speak American
The woman with the heavy Russian accent agreed.
The train car was full of Hispanics & Asian-Americans. And I was there too.
He said: I called some company's help line & they couldn't even speak American.
The woman with the heavy Russian accent agreed in commiseration.
Then the older guy with the grey ponytail imitated the man on the phone: How do you do today? His imitation sounded like an Indian accent. But he also used a more proper pronunciation, as if to speak with precise elocution is somehow not American.
Then he said in his own voice, in response to his own question: I'm pissed! My phone isn't working!
Then he said: And then he said: I'm sorry I did not understand you sir, could you please repeat your problem?
And then he said in his own voice: Then I said: I said I'm pissed! My goddamned phone isn't working!.
And then he said in his imitating-Indian-accent voice: I'm sorry to hear that, sir, but there is no need to yell.
And then he said: No need to yell? Speak American!
The woman with the heavy Russian accent agreed with him.
When the two of them got off the train he left his empty tall-boy below the seat.
People make a lot of social observations in the subway because they are always being watched by the posters & ads. There are so many ads with faces on them.
Many of the posters have their eyes ripped out, revealing the layers of posters below them. It's pretty creepy. Every time it's creepy.
On many of the posters kids with Sharpies have scrawled flying dick&balls aiming at the faces. Regardless of whether the people in the ads are men or women, happy or penitent, there are dick&balls flying at their faces.
When I was young I used to try to read under my covers with a flashlight, but it was too confusing. So I just kept the light on & read in bed. My parents never told me to turn it off, so I could read all night.
I think that for each of us there is a dick&balls out there somewhere, flying through the rainy nights, flying through the empty excesses of space, searching for our heads, waiting until we are at our most public, when we are on display among thousands of people who just want to get home & change out of their work clothes.
Eventually your own flying dick&balls will find you.