When I get on the subway elevator I like to pretend I’m the elevator police. I think to myself, “Lady with a double stroller, ok go ahead. Slightly overweight guy in a business suit not carrying anything except a frappuchino, let’s move it along to the stairs there buddy. Homeless guy carrying all his possessions in two overfilled Duane Reade bags, come on in. Crazy yelling lady with only one bag, let me check the weight of that. Even crazies need exercise.”
As I was putting my daughter to bed she started talking about how people are different. She said, “Why don’t some people like blueberries and some do?”
“People just have different taste buds that make them like different things. There are lots of ways people are different. Some like cats and some like dogs…”
“Some have different color hair?”
“And some people are artists and some are real people.”
“What? Honey, artists are real people.”
I was standing in line at Buffalo Exchange and a crazy guy was yelling in Spanish except for “FUCK YOU!” right before he grabbed a pair of vintage Nikes and ran out the door.
Sales girl- “Uhhh. He just stole.”
Sales guy- “Uh. Yeahhhhhh. He always does that.”
A group of Asian ladies, each about 4 feet tall, just got on the elevator with me. One looked up at me then said to another one, “You so small. Is awkward. She so tall.” The other one said, “Don’t state obvious!” Then they all giggled hysterically until we got out.