Freestyling

Overheard:
One morning this week at 42nd Street, I was on the V and lucky enough to have a seat. There was a great rush of people just as the doors were closing. Apparently the train across the platform was stalled, but our conductor wasn't going to keep the doors open for those riders to move over into our train. This inspired one gasping commuter to declare: "I swear, some of these conductors aren't even worth the bullet, man. Aren't even worth the bullet."

Possible Sign of Insanity:
There are a lot of young women in the city with Louis Vuitton bags, distinguished by their distinctive LV designs. Every time I see one of these I start singing Kanye West's "Gold Digger" in my head and it stays there for the rest of the day. "... With a baby Louis Vuitton under her underarm ..." It's one ear worm that won't ever, ever go away!

Subway Factoid:
I've thoroughly researched this in merely a month (cha, right), but there is a narrow zone of perfect passenger-to-seat ratio on the subway. Too many people (rush hour) and you can barely breathe and definitely won't get a seat. Too few (later at night) and you start to get twitchy that maybe you'll be left alone in the car with the guy in the corner who, sure, looks innocent enough in his Armani suit, but could very well be the next Charles Manson. You never know! Maybe I'm paranoid (JP is shaking his head vigorously right now), but better paranoid than someone's tasty dinner, I say.

Neat Tricks:
K has sent me a package, which I cannot pick up until next weekend, since the post office hours are the same as my work hours and I'll be away on Saturday. That's OK, it prolongs the wait and adds to the excitement. (I am bouncing up and down in anticipation of gifts.) But G and SV have the solution to the post office's useless hours: send stuff to yourself at work. Ingenious! Now I can continue my online shopping addiction.

Until Monday, then ...