I thought this man was unique in his mission until I later saw three different men with the exact same sign, all patrolling different corners of Times Square. I saw a different set of four men the next day. Yet another reason to never, ever go there; the pleas for weed money are also mass-produced.
(Times Square, Manhattan)
In elementary school, my grandfather made me a fishing pole out of shiny, varnished bamboo. Though it lacked a crank to reel in fish unlucky enough to bite my baitless-hook, I thought it was amazing. This gentleman, however, it taking his fishing to a whole ‘nother level. A kid armed with this cage is certainly bringing home dinner.
(Coney Island, Brooklyn)
The lobby lights were especially harsh and bright, so there was no way I could miss seeing him. I was worried the door guard would be angry with me for taking this picture, until I considered he wasn’t doing anything to intervene in the first place. Please tell me this man isn’t one of those wifi hotspots.
While I should have published this picture closer to Christmas when I actually took it, I think it works on a weirder level for Easter. This is what the Easter chicks grow into: Come December, they will be towering, feathered runway models with stick-thin arms and couture frocks. They will be unstoppable.
Some beats are better than others. While I’m sure tanorexic juiceheads filled with too much Coney Island Lager can sure cause a ruckus, cops on duty in Brownsville don’t get to eat Nathan’s Hot Dogs and make kissy faces at female photographers. Advantage? Beach cops.
(Coney Island, Brooklyn)
There are a lot of ways to make a buck in this city. Some of them involve working long hours and living in fear of being usurped by your competition. Some of them are more free-spirited and creative, like finally landing a dream role in an off-Broadway play. In at least one case, you can make a dollar by training a cat to sit on your head and demanding money in exchange for photographs. Let’s just hope he doesn’t try to claim this cat as a dependent on his taxes come April 15th.
(5th Ave Midtown, Manhattan)
I’m so ready for summer to return. It’s time to flood back into the streets, listen to some music, and banish our wool coats to the back of our closet. Come on warm weather: This guy wants to jam. If I recall correctly, his speakers were turned up so far past 11 that I couldn’t hear again until I was far, far away.
(Carroll Gardens, Brooklyn)
Nestled among the tourists in our chaotic Times Square, I spotted this little old man and his binoculars. He only raised them periodically, but when he did he gazed in the same direction. Was he looking in a specific window of a particular building, hoping to spy on someone? Was he getting a closer look at a commercial as it flashed up on the screen in front of him? Are there actually birds to watch besides pigeons around here?
(Times Square, Manhattan)
Be careful when moving to Brooklyn. You may find yourself out and about with your partner, wearing matching clothing, barefoot and such. However, you will always have back support when needed.
(Prospect Park, Brooklyn)
Let’s all take the moment to debate the politics of this household, where one tiny dog has earned the distinction of wearing a T-shirt and the other has not. This might even warrant a sitcom on a major network by the time we are done with our debate. (West Villiage, Manhattan)
I don’t read enough. I’ll go ahead and admit that because I feel like if I just took the effort to learn more and keep learning like I did in college, my life would make more sense. I also don’t exercise at all. Ever. Therefore, this man who obviously powered his own transportation with EXERCISE and is taking the time for LEARNING with a book trumps me.
My hat is off to you, sir. Your hat is, of course, welcome to stay on. (Prospect Park, Brooklyn)
New York City: Where perfectly reasonable, sane people willingly stand next to big, foul-smelling mountains of garbage. Full of rats, possibly both of the rodent and snitching variety.
(Meatpacking District, Manhattan)
I honor of our nation’s independence, I present to you a child with a toy machine gun eating dinner on a fancy table cloth. If the British were coming today, he stands as evidence that we would still be prepared. Additionally…what kind of shoes are those?!?! The tread is sick.
(Little Italy, Manhattan)
I don’t have a bicycle, but I really want one. It’s been so long since I’ve ridden a bicycle that I can’t even consider trying it without a helmet. Even though I’ll have horrible, sweaty hair, at least I won’t have a busted noggin. All that considered, I can’t see myself even trying to use a phone on a bike. My clumsiness would be disastrous. (Pier 54, Manhattan)
Sandwiched between a subway map and a Ray Romano poster are five kids, all staring out into the inky black subway tunnel. Oh to be young and not constantly associate subways with the smell of urine, public indecency, and constant delays. For them, it’s still an adventure and the best way to travel on a field trip. (C Train, Brooklyn)