adventures

yesterday, a venture only a couple of blocks from my apartment turned out to be an adventure and furthermore a study of human interaction. first, a homeless man pushing his things around in a cart stopped to make eye contact with us and exclaimed, "it's so fucking cold out my balls are shriveled up and my nipples are hard." i admire the candidness of this man. i suppose they are the ultimate rebels, homeless people. i didn't know whether his remarks were intended to be funny or if these bodily changes were just too alarming to keep to himself, but, either way, we chuckled and moved on. to...the diner. diners are people-watching meccas where new yorkers feel very at home in their surroundings, at least this is what i have found. first, our waitress, who we later found out was named Vera, looked to be a very typical diner waitress in my eyes. however, in googling "diner waitress" this image appears:and instead she looked more like this:
which i appreciated, because let's be honest, this broad has lived her life. Vera was very confrontational and took personal insult to the woman next to us who sent her side of vegetables back for being exclusively carrots. also, when the braggart and exceedingly obnoxious brady bunch next to us told Vera about how their daughter wrote an essay about making smoking illegal responded, "well, good for her (insert sarcastic tone)." i think living here is making me less inclined to sugar coat things and be more frank, like Vera. I think this is a good thing. As our dinner was winding down, the man next to us, who insisted on sitting in Vera's section, began shamelessly flirting with her despite being with his wife. He then ordered a glass of white wine "with ice on the side, because that's how we used to do it in Paris." classy, sir. people are just so funny and i love watching how different we all are. moral of the story is: people watching is wonderful and any place that serves pickles and cole slaw as the appetizer is bound to be good people watching.