I work in New York City. It's full of nutters. Go figure.

Monday, September 13, 2004

Monday September 13th

This morning, there was a couple walking ahead of me on the street, just slowly enough that I wanted to get past them, but they were stolid enough to block me. For a while I fantasised about killing them.

He was wearing black wraparound shades and looked like he habitually over-uses a rather strong cologne. She was wearing what looked at first glance, like grey pyjamas. On closer inspection it appeared to be a grey trouser suit. Made out of pyjama material. It clung to her bottom. That was not a nice sight for me. Down below, the trousers flooded over her feet, rendering her essential bachelorette pedicure quite pointless. Her shoulder pads were spongy, but limp. They looked like they had given up the fight and were resigned to their humiliating existence as props for the worst suit ever designed, ever made and ever worn. The couple were not holding hands and did not speak a single word to each other all the time I was behind them.

I lost them on the way to the subway, but as I got off my train, she was in front of me and I had to walk up the stairs behind her, fascinated by the way the grey pyjamas stuck to her arse. I couldn't understand why anyone would ever wear, let alone buy a suit of grey pyjamas.

2 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

This made me think of your blog: http://www.nytimes.com/2004/09/14/nyregion/14subway.html?8hpib

Guess you wouldn't be in the 68%, huh?

4:54 AM

 
Blogger euro said...

Correct.

11:29 AM

 

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