I decided to indulge in self-preservation and limit my interaction with humanity. Essentially, I flipped a coin between the bus and a cab. A balance of diffuse humanity (a bus) or potentially pungent, up-close humanity (a cab). Cab won (two-headed coin works every time). Perfectly. Pleasant trip — no odors of any kind (a huge plus), no radio (can never be sure it’ll be soooooothing music) and no speed of light/through stop signs spiritedness. (Now, as you all may remember, I live in a diverse and economically mixed neightborhood.) So as I reflecting on the surprisingly pleasant cab ride, I look out the window and up — and see about six pairs of boxer shorts hanging on the fire escape getting that fresh air scent from drying al fresco (ok, it HAS BEEN RAINING FOR NINE DAYS). So, the morals of the story are (i) give up, humanity always finds you, (ii) pray that when you are selling your already devalued apartment for which you pay hefty mortgage payments, potential buyers don’t look up, and (iii) forget about falling bricks –worry about some stranger’s handwashed (not even scalded in boiling water) underwear coming down on your head.
Ah, a typical day on the road to Utopia.
