The Starbucks has outdoor seating. Every day a man, presumably homeless, sits in the chair closest to the door. He smokes, giggling constantly, full-out laughing in spurts. Yesterday a different man was seated in his chair. He was smoking and giggling and laughing in the exact same way. The
“To all police and fire departments, to all volunteers, I know I speak for all NYC—We are and always will be profoundly grateful to all of you!” photo by Choire Sicha
I spent Labor Day weekend by a lake upstate with friends. One afternoon we were lying on a dock, when a duck swam by and disappeared around the bow of a boat. “Heh,” I said. “What?” “I don’t know. I was just trying to make up a joke.” “What
From TMN Contributing Writer John Warner… As a liberal, I never thought I’d say this, but here it is: I feel sorry for President Bush. Politicians lie. We know this. It’s a given, a part of the bargain required to achieve elective office. Even John McCain, that famously
I’m guessing most of the kids wearing Palestinian scarves will probably enjoy a comfortable, good night’s sleep once the RNC’s over, without facing tanks in the morning. Why can’t the protesters wear more interesting costumes? Isn’t there something the Republicans hate more than dirty hippies?
Walking to catch a subway home from Manhattan on Saturday, I was a bit stunned to see the NYPD blimp floating overhead. As of about Thursday, New York City is officially under control, and I’ve become used to seeing soldiers with giant weapons in Grand Central (my mother accidentally
So I’ve noticed a puzzling link that seems to be doing the rounds lately, and it’s a mind-boggler, based on what I’ve seen. And “seen,” as it turns out, really is the operative word. Puzzled, out of answers, checked the pockets, nothing of help to be
An after-dinner call from a friend on Thursday evening. I pick up the phone. “Hello?” “Hey, what’s up?” “Nothing much.” “Well, there’s a new bar that just opened. And it’s only three blocks from your house and it’s gorgeous.” “Really?” “Yes. I have no idea
Hello? Are you there? How are you? What? Sorry? What’s up? Excuse me? Pardon me? When? Come again? What’s going on? Where? What do you mean? What’d you say? Huh? What’s that? Who? Why? How much?
It’s our pleasure to welcome Pitchaya Sudbanthad as our newest Contributing Writer. He’s written a number of great stories for TMN—about Nigella Lawson’s juicy tomatoes, the Nets’ move to Brooklyn, Spalding Gray’s death, the sounds of music lit-sters One Ring Zero, and his experiences
