how to treat your man

I don't want to be that friend who calls after 6 months and then spends the first ten minutes of the conversation explaining and apologizing for the lapse in contact. Let's just cut to the chase and start catching up now, shall we?

First things first, Tales from the 1 Train.


Take a look... those are piles of kitty litter. I like to think this is the New York equivalent of toilet-papering. The funny thing is, no one was willing to just brush the stuff off so they could have a seat! Sure, it's sort of gross... but during a commute, people are usually willing to sit in a pile of hot garbage if it means getting off their feet.

This morning, we were riding downtown dressed in our Sunday best when we were approached by a very friendly, very VERY loud homeless woman who was quite taken with my Mister's suit-and-tie look. She told me (at the top of her lungs) that a man like that is "A GIFT FROM GOD!" and that I should "TAKE CARE OF THAT MAN!" And then she said, "IF I HAD A MAN LIKE THAT, OH MAH GOONESS, I'D BE LIKE..."

And that's when she did a horrifying booty dance for all the passengers on the train, complete with finger snaps, deep knee bends, and "UH-HUH, OOH! AW YEAH!"

And then she asked for a nickel.