This morning the following people were standing withing three feet of me on my subway car:

  • A man listening to an iPod and singing in a LOUD falsetto. The song involved lines that go something like “When we have sex, it feels so good.” and “I’m gonna buy you some jewels [Or possibly Jews. He wasn’t enunciating.].”
  • A woman who  seemed  normal (except for her Erykah Badu-meets-Wiccan attire and multiple facial piercings) until the singing man moved a step closer to her. She then pushed through the crowd to get away from him, which bought her closer to me, and began a spirited, totally coherent discussion–with herself. That lasted for the rest of the train ride.
  • A Franciscan monk wearing a robe (tied with a rope), baseball cap, and Teva sandals. I thought he was another nut job, but then I saw how scared he was of the other two people and decided against it.

I think this is the part where I’m supposed to say “Ah, New York, so kooky, that’s why I love you.” or something, but you know that ain’t true.