At every subway stop in New York I’m greeted by the beaming, beatific, well-coiffed vision of reality TV star Tim Gunn. Bravo has plastered Gunn’s visage from Brooklyn to Broadway to promote his upcoming television show, and I for one couldn’t be more pleased. Tim’s familiar face has proven to be a source of solace as I’ve attempted to navigate New York’s labyrinthine subway system, and this slightly altered ad made me laugh out loud, despite the fact that they misspelled Andrae’s name.

Yesterday, as I was carting my belongings to the 4th Ave stop, a rail thin Latino man in obscenely short shorts sashayed his way towards me, barking at what appeared to be a caretaker/companion by his side. While his clownish, hip shaking gait could be spotted from nearly a mile away, it was the booming, bull-frog like voice emanating from his larynx that came to define him. Imagine if Tom Waits and Mario Cantone somehow spawned a child and you still wouldn’t come close to the horrific sounds this man produced. As he walked by a child, he pointed a spindly finger in its face and laughed, a sort of modern day Cruella DeVille with a flamingly homosexual twist.

I thought that I was done with this man, but as I was leaning against my luggage waiting for the train, I heard his unmistakable voice echoing from a nearby staircase. He emerged red-faced, and took a beeline for an empty seat next to a Latino father and his children. Throughout this whole time he was spewing forth a non-stop mix of Spanish and English. One of the kids just sat there, mouth agape, staring at the man like he was a monster. Then a Thai homosexual couple entered his line of sight and he stopped his incessant chattering and began sizing them up. They noticed his lecherous gaze and moved to another area. The man whispered excitedly to his companion, “Chinas locas!” and then called after them, “Where are you going sweeties?”

The train finally arrived and we all got on. At the next stop the Thai couple exited the train at a full gallop as a discordant, disembodied voice yelled, “You couldn’t handle me!”

Later in the day, I was waiting for the G train to arrive and a Mexican family sat on the bench next to me. The daughter, about three, would not stop crying and the mother would not stop yelling “cállate” at her. Their call and response went on for what seemed like ten minutes.

Finally, the mother led the little girl behind a nearby trash can and the crying stopped. I couldn’t figure out what was going on until I heard the unmistakable sound of trickling water and noticed a yellow puddle slowly oozing out from behind the trash can.

Today I travel on foot.

This entry was posted on Sunday, September 2nd, 2007 at 11:08 am and is filed under general, photos. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.