I’m not sure why New Yorkers don’t laugh more often. When I crack a broad grin on the subway, New Yorkers duck, thinking the next thing I’ll do is break out in song and ask for spare change. Maybe not, because even the buskers don’t smile.
Check this sign out (located in front of the Aveda Institute in Manhattan, where students cut mannequin hair in the evenings–a dozen plastic heads sitting on their tables, getting groomed). I was laughing almost hysterically next to a couple of 18 wheelers vying for space in an adjacent loading dock.
Sign: Purchase $75.00 worth of product receive a Free Trial Hand Relief!
Me: (snicker) Hahaha.
Sign: *Ask us about our Facials!!
Me: Dying of laughter.
Also, I ate a knish today.
And walked through snow laden Central Park…
80,000 words 
Spontaneous grins on the subway are usually the result of self-urination, just sayin’.
I’m not sure what looks better, a frosted Central Park or your haircut (definitely not that knish!)
OMG- that sign has me in convulsions!!!! “First, we give you a free hand job. Then, you cum on our faces!!!” I am DYING
Hand relief and facials — my, my what has this blog degenerated into? I’m not even gonna comment on the knish.
Why don’t New Yorkers laugh more? I always thought that a smiling person on the subway = probable insanity.
Also, New York just isn’t funny. OK?
@Nate: that knish did suck.
@amapofhome: i thank you for the clarification to those who don’t have as nearly raucous and deviant minds as ours! Still laughing at it, days later. 😉
@bookfraud: no worries–I write everyday at the Writers Room, and perhaps I may write about it…but for now, you’re suffering the consequences of my roaming the streets, off the couch. 😉
That’s a beautiful pic. of the park. I’m feeling nostalgic.
Pingback: Intimacy at the center of the world | 80,000 words