Today a pigeon pooped on me in Union Square park. I used a subscription card from inside the New York Magazine I was reading to wipe it off. A couple sat arguing next to me, telling each other to, “Go eat a fuck” and some such. I peered over and realised they were reading lines from a play. My feet ached from walking to Times Square in plimsoles and a bum managed to squeeze me for two dollar-bills outside the New York Post Office on 8th Ave. I must have looked like a stupid fucking tourist with a camera around my neck and a straw hat.

Now I’m reading the Apartamento magazine I bought from a bodega in SoHo yesterday, sipping tea and wondering what I’ll do tonight.

06/12/09 -- Magazines > New York > Times Square > Union Square -- 0 Comments