New York could have saved itself a lot of money by not installing crossing lights. No New Yorker heeds those lights. They cross by some kind of intuition. I assimilated and crossed without hesitation when there was no traffic, but I was less confident when there were moving cars. My solution was to follow the lead of the person wearing skinny jeans. Regardless of what they are wearing or their age, never follow two people holding hands. People holding hands in New York are in a love haze and they will walk for miles to get nowhere.

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“Are those old-fashioned water containers on rooftops in case of fire?”
“I don’t know.”
“What embassy is that?”
“I don’t know.”
“What is that sculpture?”
“I don’t know.”
“For someone who claims to be a New Yorker, you don’t know a lot.”

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On the other hand, I paused to take a picture of one of the amazing window displays in the city and when I turned back, Sarah was in a group debating subway routes.

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Having witnessed the functional purpose of the scarves that New Yorkers wear as fashion accessories, I wonder how they deal with smells and germs on subways during warm weather.

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Metropolitan Museum of Art > Frick > MoMa

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Not knowing Spanish in New York felt rude and inconsiderate. I’m sorry.

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Small child reading ad on the side of a bus: “Beavis and Butthead.”
Nanny: “Just say Beavis.”
Child: “That’s not what it says.”
Nanny: “That is ALL you will say.”

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Do people in New York not need the rare and endangered public bathroom because they walk off all fluids or are they perpetually dehydrated?”

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OH in crowd watching Naked Cowboy: “I think he’s gay.”

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“One of the Beatles died there. Why are you crying?”

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If I lived in New York, I would be one of the clipboard people who answer questions in Central Park. I could never get tired of Central Park.