There’s nothing like leaving a club at 1am and while you’re already having you’re after-drinks slice of pie you notice that those who are 10 years younger than you are just barely arriving at the clubs. Did I also mention it was a WEDNESDAY night?!
Look, I can dance with the best of them and drink with the worst of them but staying out late on a workday is just not reality for me anymore! I need to stack my paper, manage people, get invoices paid, type coherent emails.
So ya, while you are leaving home . . . I am heading back. I am OK with that, no really.
A bike perfectly parked in front of a Brooklyn home.
Helen Yee plays her violin at Bryant Park
Jonathan-Nathaniel Boaz Dingle-El asked me to take his picture and with a smile like that, I am so glad I did.
Photographer Louis Mendes poses for me for one shot only near Union Square Park.
Art bombed car in the East Village of Manhattan
Arabic Graffiti in Manhattan’s Lower Eastside by El Seed
Bicycle locked up in front of El Seed’s Arabic graffiti.
I’m not very keen on handouts ya see?
So when I chose to swipe my metro and enter the underground only to find that I forgot to put in my gauged ear plugs leaving my lobes a stretched mess I knew I’d have to head right back home. I was not stepping into my conservative job LIKE THAT! So I took my ass home. Pushed them right in and made a u-turn back to the downtown train. Please tell me 11 minutes have lapsed since I last swiped. Please?!
Swipe! Beeeep! Damn!
I pivot to get a single ride from the machine only to see the attendant point to me then to the turnstile right next to me. “What?! Oh shit! Thank you so much.” And in I went to the dank underground.
This hand out, I’ll take. Now I just have to find a way to pay it forward.