New York Justice
On Thursday, I was on the M60 bus, heading crosstown from 125th and Lexington to LaGuardia Airport.  It's 3:30 in the afternoon, and the bus is crowded.  At 2nd Avenue, this man who appears to be homeless or maybe just a bit off gets on the bus.  He's wearing an army coat with the hood pulled tightly around his head.  He's clutching a lumpy, dirty bag very closely.  He tries to use a number of Metrocards that are all empty.  He stays on the bus anyway. 

The bus driver flips out.  "Uh-uh.  I ain't driving this bus with you on it.  I KNOW you ain't got no money in there.  Hell no!"  The bus driver gets off the bus and got to stand by the barbershop and newsstand outside.  So this standing-room-only bus is idling in the middle of rush hour traffic on a busy street.

People are not happy.  A few start yelling at the guy who is still standing on the bus.  On tough-looking guy goes out to discuss things with the bus driver.  The heckling picks up.  "People have places to go."  "Get off the bus."  "Get off the damn bus."  "Get off the fucking bus, ya freak."  He tries to sneak farther back onto the bus, and there is a general outcry.  Those of us in the idea, do our best to block his way. 

Other people have been getting on the bus during all of this.  A woman who looked disturbingly similar to a certain cross cultural journalism professor (short hair, big t-shirt, Lycra capris, real sneakers though, not Keds) carrying a small juke box over her sholder on a piece of rawhide lets him have it.  "I will throw you off this bus.  Do you want me to pick you up and throw you off the bus?  I know you just took a hit, but if I have to hit you that hit will hit you harder." 

I'm pretty sure I'm about to see a rumble on a public bus.  (And I'm a little too close for comfort.)  But the yelling escalates, and the weirdo finally gets off the bus and walks a way in a huff.  Only then do I notice the bright red mini skirt.  The woman with the radio explained to us all that he/she was just a crackhead and didn't know better.

I leave, and people just start getting married and having babies
-I saw my married friends first home and pictures of her second
-I played the bongo drums in the lounge of Bahama Breeze
-Go to a baby shower and drink out of a baby bottle with other grown women (It was a race!)
-Go to a casino in Iowa.  Realize this is a bad idea when we have to drive home from Iowa at 1 am
-In the Sunday paper, read about the engagement of one of your mortal enemies from high school
-Get real backyard barbeque and corn on the cob
-Visit lots and lots

Overheard when passing a diner on the way to the subway
"Yo, the chicken pot pie there is off the hook."

Chicken pot pie is cooler than me.

Shout out to Chrissy and her countrymen
(Actual phone conversation I had today)
Them: "So where are you from?"
Me: "Our magazine is located in New York City."
Them: "No, where are you from originally. Are you from Canada?  You have a Canadian accent."
Me: "Um, I'm from Illinois."

What not to say when meeting a potential roommate
Her: I just moved from Israel a week ago.  I work for the Israeli government.
Me: Oh, what do you do?
Her:  I really can't say.  It's the military.  We have a building here.  I really can't say any more.
Me: (Um, next!)

Things that suck
-another (more senior) editor quitting.  At least she gave notice.