120 Days in Sodom

I was recently walking past the newly renovated Walt Whitman park at 8:30 am (the hour designated for dogs and their walkers) and I saw the most amazing thing. None of the dogs were interacting. They were just staring past each other hoping not to seem too engaged. What intelligent dogs we have in this city. Even they learn how to be ‘street smart’ New Yorkers!

The dogs are fighting and fucking outside my window and all I am thinking is "how wonderful to be a dog."

Recently the delicatessen on the ground floor of my 78th street walkup has decided to put a bench outside the store front for patrons to congregate. I am besides myself with anger. All day people loiter there. You can’t get a moments peace. I hate it all in the following order:  smoking, snacking, genteel conversation, having coffee with a friend; and the masturbating homeless.

Today a lady smiled at me on the F train. Naturally I assumed this woman was deranged, so I tried to ignore her by pretending to check something on my iPhone. When I glanced up again, however, she was still smiling!  I attempted to deescalate the situation by smiling back at her, but I was so out of practice the best I could muster was a smirk. I fear this only antagonized her further because afterwards she waved at me! I continued to wonder “why me?” “why today?” and “what I did to deserve this?” for a few more stops when suddenly it hit me: this woman was my old college roommate from Brandeis! We hadn’t spoken in 30 years. Imagine seeing her here after all this time! Needless to say, I got off at the next station to avoid an awkward confrontation about the “Intro to Personality” textbook, which I lent her and she never returned.