Drama #3: Open Letter to the G Train

The G Train is a single subway line that connects Brooklyn to Queens, and if you have to go from say, Park Slope to Williamsburg, and it comes right away, you can avoid riding into Manhattan and save a good 10 minutes or so by taking it. I take it to and from work at least 3 times a week, and in the mornings, it's pretty great. After 7 pm, though, or on the weekends, it's a different story. Little Miss G Train leaves people waiting in the stations for up to a half an hour, bored and outright pissed.

I imagine that at the Metropolitan Avenue stop last Saturday, a broken man named Gutter, had had his fill:



It reads:

Dear G Train,

Well, sorry about all of those things I said about you last weekend. But the thing is, you are never there for me. Seriously, why? Please, please, please come pick me up. Be there for me? Is that so much?

-love
Gutter

The G Train replies:

Dear Gutter,

I don't have much time, but you should know that whenever I'm here, you're not. And when you're home, I'm out, scouting the same old paths, looking for you.

I'll always be here or on my way there.

Love,
G

PS You only come see me when you need a ride. Stop using me, freeloader!

To be fair, I doubt very seriously that the G Train actually wrote that PS. That was totally different in handwriting, marker color, and overall tone.

I also take serious issue with the hooligan that wrote "G Train, you're a slut" beneath the correspondence. You know what, hooligan, just back off and let them work it out, okay?

Drama #2: Child on Leash

So, my friend Suzanne and I decided to walk by the 34th Street Macy's today to look at the Christmas windows, which I realize to most New Yorkers equates to suicidal behavior. It was the same, boring Miracle on 34th Street display as the previous two years. There was lots of drama happening at every turn on 34th Street, but this was a special kind of drama: A mom walking her kid around town on a leash. It may be difficult to see, but it's almost like a chihuahua leash.



Immediately I thought of this moment from Ragtime:

An Immigrant man leads his daughter onto the stage, a rope tied firmly to her waist.

[LITTLE BOY]
Mother!

[MOTHER]
I see! I see! He's afraid of losing her. Immigrants
are terrified of losing their children. So are we but
just not so conspicuously. Don't stare. It's not
polite to stare.

Maybe that woman's coat was afraid of losing them both.

Proclamation of Absolute Joy!

After years of periodic, half-assed YouTube searches, I've finally found it:



Here's hoping it remains there until the end of time.

Drama #1: Pigeon v. Dorito Bag

It has been a while since I've posted. I was looking at my buddy Marc's blog a minute ago, and I love the idea of it. Basically, he's taking short video clips, getting creative, taking risks, and simply posting his impulses.

I'm going to try an experiment for the next 7 days, inspired by Marc. With my newly-purchased Kodak Easy Share camera, I'm doing to try to photograph one dramatic thing every day. In this city, this shouldn't be too hard to accomplish.

Let's start with this pigeon on the platform of the 9th Street F Station. The dirty little guy sticks his head in a Dorito bag and it gets stuck there for a good minute and a half. THEN, he goes back for more.