We live on the Upper West Side, which some people think sounds fancy. Which is another nice way of saying, "not too diverse." Which really just means "full of yuppies and not too many weirdos."
I beg to differ.
Yesterday, I walked past two middle aged men, one wearing khakis and a polo shirt, and the other wearing sweat pants, a dashiki, and a hat made of what looked like banana leaves. They were having a perfectly normal conversation- at least the polo shirt guy was; the other guy was listening to the wind, I think. Either way...Hat Made of Leaves.
Walking back from the grocery store, I passed a man who I believe was the basis for the movie, Candy Man. He had real freaky eyes, and stared right at me, mumbling what I assume to be a voodoo hex. So far the worst thing that's happened has been we've run out of creamer, so maybe Candy Man needs to step up his hex game a little.
I see lots of women rolling their dogs around in pet strollers, which is really sweet and kinda sad. Sad because maybe the dogs can't walk on their own. Sad because maybe the ladies wish the dogs were really babies. Sad because I see them and wonder if Hank would like his own stroller, too...
On a less weird note, Dean and I were at lunch yesterday, and saw an old-school checker yellow cab- the real chubby ones from the movies! I would hail that thing even if I didn't have anywhere to go. Oh, and we saw a pack of really young nuns, too. They weren't getting out of the cab, but that would have been cool. Especially if the cab was one of those clown cars.
In rereading this post, I see that it's taken a turn down a winding path to nowhere. The theme has fizzled out, it has forgotten its purpose. So I'll tell you what I'm gonna do...
I'm gonna go outside and look for some good-sized leaves, and I'm gonna make myself a hat.
I'll let you know how it goes.