I thought I'd take a moment to honor some of my favorite crazy people in New York. Some of them are famous crazy people, as in most New Yorkers have seen them at some point, and others are just your run-of-the-mill, homeless crazy bastards that pop up out of no where. Let's see how many you know too.
I'll start with the famous guys. There's garbage bag wedding dress guy, who has constructed quite a fetching dress and a hat out of shredded garbage bags. He's usually around the Washington Square/Union Square area, and I've been seeing him for about 10 years. Then there's the guy with a cat on his head. Yes, literally a cat sitting on his head. He's a new crazy but I've spotted him twice on 23rd and other friends have seen him. Then there's the guy with the scary voice who sounds like he's eating nails that sleeps on the steps of the church on 22nd between 2nd and 3rd. He's usually mumbling something about how Jews and white people are the devil. Last but not least, there's the guy who preaches about the apocalypse on the 6 train that sounds like Mr. Garrison on South Park. "Sinners will burn for all eternity in a lake of fire, mmmmkay?".
As for the random crazy people, my favorite has to be the guy on the subway who looked me dead in the eye and told me "Satan is in my toe nail! You better be at the place tomorrow, ok? You better be at the place." I assured him I would be "at the place" tomorrow and then ran off the train. I sure do hope he fixed that whole Satan in his toe nail problem. There has to be a cream for that. I've also got to give a shout out to the homeless woman who used to hang out in front of Dag Hammerskjold Plaza, who would sing/scream and end the performance by dropping her pants and taking a piss. Thanks crazy people for making this city what it is - a loony bin!
If you are reading this and have your own favorite crazy person, share your story in the comments. Thanks!
Monday, October 26, 2009
I had the pleasure of sitting next to one of New York's finest on the train this morning...one of New York's finest crazy women that is. To make a long story short, crazy was talking to her sister and just started barking - yes barking, like a dog. Since I couldn't even understand what they were talking about in their incredibly loud, profanity-laced conversation, I couldn't figure out why she started barking. But, I didn't have to because then she tells the frightened girl sitting between her and her sister that she is bipolar and forgot to take her medicine this morning. Awesome. I'm no doctor, but I think she has a bad case of smokeacrakepipeitis.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Being packed into the 6 train every morning like human cattle just isn't the best way to start the day. You've barely wiped the crust out of your eyes and some dude is shoving you with all his might into the people around you just to get onto the train. Oh, and he always has some extra big package or briefcase that jabs you in the ribs and manages to grab your ass. I will never understand why people shove to get on the train considering there's a train every two damn minutes during the morning rush, but I guess the manager at McDonald's gets angry if the fat vats aren't emptied by 10am.
This morning two subway riders decided to push the wrong damn people. I couldn't even see the first incident, but I heard the explosion of profanity come out a woman's mouth as she hollered at some guy who just pushed her. She did such a good job of berating him he didn't even retort. Hell, she even frightened me. Good job honey! About two stops later, I barely even heard any words exchanged before a pair of glasses flew in the air and two guys were beating each other up. I finally got a glimpse of the idiots when they spilled out of the train onto the platform at 68th Street. As far as fights go though, they were both wusses. They were just kind of locked up, hugging each other like two tired boxers. Lame! Oh, I forgot to mention these two brainiacs started to fight right next to a stroller with a baby in it and nearly tipped it over. Class acts all around.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Yom Kippur is pretty much the holiest day of the year for the Jews. You spend 24 hours fasting and atoning for your sins, and if you're like me, you've got a lot of sinning to atone for. I can't even begin to count the cheeseburgers I ate and goys I hooked up with. Anyway, as the metaphor goes, on Yom Kippur God decides whether or not he will inscribe your name in the book of life. That is to say, he decides whether or not you'll live another year. After spending 2 1/2 hours in synogogue atoning for my sins and seriously contemplating the meaning of my life, I emerged from the temple feeling renewed and optimistic. It's a euphoric feeling to be totally free of sin. But, hey, this is New York, and this city likes to shit all over anything good and pure. So I walk about a block from the temple, and as I'm crossing 3rd Ave. some cabbie, who apparently thinks my walking in the crosswalk was a crime against humanity, turns onto 3rd and slowly rolls his taxi behind me with every step I take, coming within an inch of me. I turn around, give him the death stare and flip him the bird. Damn! Well, it was nice to be without sin for five minutes.
Let me take you back a few years to a classic "so over New York" moment. Picture it. Sicily. 1936. Oh, wait. Sorry, I was channeling Sophia of the Golden Girls. Eh hem. Picture it. Union Square. 2000 something. It's raining cats and dogs and my roommate and I are soaked to the bone. We're desperately trying to get a cab to take us home, but so is almost everyone else standing around us. The water is ankle deep in the streets, but what luck! A cab sees us and signals that he is going to pull up the block a bit so we don't have to cross an enormous lake to get into the cab. I'm about to reach out and open the door when out of no where a douche bag extraordinaire pushes in front of me and tries to get in. Oh, but bless this cab driver (and I never say that) because he sees the guy trying to steal the cab from us and locked the door! Brilliant! The D-bag keeps trying to open the door so I say curtly, "Sir, this is our cab. He pulled over for us." When he doesn't move away, I just kind of snap and say, in a somewhat civil tone, "Sir, I will punch you in the face." Apparently, he was one of those pansy douche bags because he backed away. The funny thing is I didn't even realize what I said until my roommate asked "Did you just tell that guy you were going to punch him in the face?" "Um yeah, yeah I did. And it worked!
Monday, October 12, 2009
Dog poop is a big, smooshy problem in this city. It's simply everywhere, though especially on 22nd street between 5th and 6th, which is a veritable minefield of turds (and where my office is). See, if you live in the giant apartment building on the corner of 6th and 23rd and you take your dog for a walk on busy 23rd everyone will see it poop and you have to clean it up. But, clever residents have figured out if you walk the dog on nearly deserted 22nd St. you can let your dog poop up a storm and there is nary a person to yell at you for not scooping it up. Well, today was the cherry on the poop sundae because there were piles of road apples all over 22nd. I can only assume it was from mounted police, but there is nothing there that requires mounted police! Unless, the Home Depot loading dock becomes a rave at night, which I don't think it does.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Being a Jehovah's Witness in New York City has to be pretty scary. You knock on strangers' doors all day hoping someone will invite you in to talk about Yussel Punderoff (that's Jesus Christ in Yiddish) and hope they don't murder you and throw you in the river. If you're wondering if Jehovah's Witnesses really exist in the city, I can attest they do because one of them just rang my bell. "Who is it?" I asked. "Hello," said a sugary sweet sounding woman, like we were old buddies and she was just paying me a visit. "WHO. IS. IT?" I asked again, highly annoyed. "Jehovah's Witness" she demurely replied. All I could think was really? Really? Wow. That's a first. I played nice though and told her, "Sorry, I'm a Jew." That was enough to send her on her merry way.
Friday, October 9, 2009
When I was thinking about starting this blog, I was worried I wouldn't have enough to write about on a regular basis. So, I guess I have to thank the woman who woke me up at the ungodly hour of 3:30am today with her screams of "Give me my money! Give me my money! Give me my money! You fucking motherfucker give me my fucking money!" for proving me wrong. She repeated this for 15 minutes straight without pause! With pipes like that she should be selling OxyClean on infomercials, but I'm guessing she turns tricks in the park down the block. I didn't have the the conviction to pull myself out of bed to see this hot mess for my own eyes, but I can only imagine she looked something like this.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Today I was walking across 22nd St. and stepped right into a puddle of blood. At first, I thought the bright red liquid might be paint, but that conclusion was quickly ruled out when my eyes followed the trail of little drops from the puddle to the man on the sidewalk bleeding profusely from his face. Good times. Oh and if you care, the guy was alright, just banged up from a bike accident, and a cop came to help him.