A taxi driver rear-ended a stopped car at the intersection of 42nd St and 8th Avenue this morning. For reasons best known to himself, he then stood on the gas and attempted — with his fare still inside — to make his getaway down the busy stretch of 42nd St that runs past my workplace. The consequences were predictable.
April 2005 Archives
Leaving the scene
Today, walking back from the Jamaica Bay Wildlife Refuge through Broad Channel, we passed a row of houses, each of which seemed to have something to say. The first had a flag outside, and signs that declared
“Proud to be an American” and
“We support our troops”. A sign in the window of the next house announced
“We believe in angels.”
The garden of the third house was occupied by a long-haired gray cat approximately the size of a small sheep. A sign tacked to a fence post warned:
“Danger. Premises patrolled by an attack parrot”.
In moments of frustration, M. has sometimes been heard to curse people with the words
“A plague of Chico murals on your neighborhood!”. I have mixed feelings about Chico's output. Given that the Lower East Side is not exactly an area of great natural beauty, the splash of color is certainly welcome. On the other hand, there is something undeniably creepy about them. I think it's the eyes. The newest one, of the late Pope, is particularly sinister, making the recently-departed pontiff look ominously Aryan. I wonder if it's permissible to hope that someone will go out and whack Puff Daddy or Fifty Cent, so that I don't have to walk past this every day for the next two years ...