date:
10.10.2002
As I listened to Pulp, and reminisced about my more elaborate, fun-seeking, social, and outgoing self of years past, I gazed out the window into the subway tunnel. Flashing lights and glimpses of structural columns swooshed by, and then, within an instant, I SAW A MAN! He was no MTA worker, I can say that much. He looked to be slumped down, sitting along the side of the opposite tracks. I assume he was either a sleeping homeless man, or a very dead man. I only recall seeing his light-colored clothing, a shirt and a light weight jacket, and he was located about 20 yards from the 5th Ave. subway platform. Was he a victim of the mob, having carelessly dumped his body after he didn�t pay up? Or could he have been a bum, created by Bloomburg�s heartless evictions? I think I will never know�unless I see him again tomorrow morning!! Dunt-dunt-daaaaah. Then, rounding the corner after Queensborough Plaza, on the elevated train tracks now, I was blinded by gigantic lights, located close to where Joe used to live. He had told me tales of watching the tapings of television shows, but this was my first sighting of it in Queens. Yay! I love my neighborhood. And finally, at the next train stop, I witnessed a man sitting across the platform, frantically conducting to a non-existent orchestra. He held his baton with two fingers and the rest raised, as a professional should, and flipped the sheet music on his lap quickly with his left hand. I was pleasantly amused. Off to feed the bunny wabbit�
song stuck in my head:
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