The last few weeks have been very busy. I'm behind on email to an extent that will probably necessitate some kind of general amnesty and fresh start, the school year and everything else has begun with a vengeance, and while my current crop of problems is pretty awesome, I generally feel like I stepped on a rake. (THWACK!)
But none of that excuses my egregious failure to share the incredible, delightful, and creepy moment I had on Monday:
I was walking along Washington Square minding my own beeswax when an African-American homeless gentleman in late middle age came up to me, wagged his finger in my face, and yelled, "I'M GONNA TELL RON BURGUNDY ON YOU!"
Please don't rat me out, crazy homeless guy. I promise to stay classy from now on.
Also, just as I did that time in 2002 when I heard a homeless guy who was at least 65 years old singing a really not bad rendition of "No Diggity"**, I find myself wondering about the availability of pop culture to the homeless. What weird bits and pieces of non-print media find their way to those with only intermittent access to shelter, never mind TV? I know this is just about the least of their worries. But my curiosity is roused all the same.
** I totally gave that guy money.