Big Apple Blog

Downtown Gotham.

A while back I took a photo walk on Randall’s Island with some folks I met via the blogosphere. Pro-Zak took this pic and sent it to me. I always seem to be hunting for something.

WARNING: This entry contains subject matter that is graphic in nature. Proceed at your own risk. If you have food in front of you, you may wish to read this later.

First of all, don’t you just love warnings like this? Such warnings just make you want to keep reading or watching, right? Remember when Lawrence Taylor snapped Joe Theisman’s leg on Monday Night Football? I know I could not help but watch the replay over and over no matter how many times I was told I might want to look away. Anyway . . .

Sometimes you encounter situations that perfectly fit an expression. I am always curious about the origins of expressions, and I’m wondering what situation was responsible for the expression that I will reveal at the end of this entry. I’ll describe what happened and give you the expression that seems oh so appropriate.

I’ll start by referencing Forest Gump’s famous expression and state my assertion that, “Manhattan is like a box of chocolates.” You just never know what you are going to see when you open your door and venture outside. It’s a crazy place that often reminds me of a college campus: crazy people, doing crazy things, leaving crazy reminders of what they have done.

I recently decided that I wanted another errand bike that was better equipped to handle the mean streets of NYC. I found a used one for sale and had to ride the subway to go pick it up. I got up on a Sunday morning and headed out early. On the way to the subway I encountered a large group of pigeons enjoying a meal on a sidewalk. As I approached, the pigeons began to scatter and I got an eyeful of their meal: a large puddle of vomit someone had deposited on the sidewalk. All of the sudden I lost interest in the bagel I was eating.

Note to all of you out there. If you ever encounter a situation where someone encourages you to feed pigeons by placing food on your head, shoulders, or hands, just remember you don’t know where their last meal came from.

With that image fresh in my mind, I descended the stairs to the subway. Anyone who has spent any length of time in NYC knows that finding a restroom can be an adventure. I’d say about 90% of the subway stations don’t even have restrooms. Well someone, maybe the same person that puked on the sidewalk, was not going to let this minor inconvenience deter them from taking care of some much needed business.

The smell of urine in the subway is pretty common. But as I walked onto the subway platform, I noticed a smell that was particularly horrid. I looked around and it did not take me long to ascertain that someone had decided to take personal public watse disposal to the next level and defecated right in the middle of the subway platform.

Back to back public evidence of human body cavity evacuations were a rude way to begin what was a beautiful, crisp day. Okay, now you might be saying, “Oh come on now, you made all that up. No way you really saw that back to back.” My response? “I shit you not.”