Thursday, November 8, 2007

Dear NYC,

Sitting on the subway, I looked up and saw a little girl slumped over, asleep in her mother's lap. I could tell they were poor because their clothes were tattered and the women's eyes were like coffins built for a life dealt a hand of hearts in world of clubs. The unbridled shittiness of this image was so overwhelming that I felt myself blinking away tears.
Just then, the song on my iPod changed from "The Living" by Natalie Merchant to The Game's "Hate It or Love It". Feeling a bit of relief from the change in melody, I crossed my Anne Taylor-clad legs, took a sip of my grande low fat, double-shot cappuccino, and knew that everything was going to be ok.

The Woobs

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