Everyone in New York was crazy, Lucky thought. There was that woman in Times Square wearing pasties over her naughty bits playing the guitar, and there was that guy wearing Speedos and chaps wandering around the Highline. Even the friend he was visiting owned a tomahawk for the specific purpose of defending himself in the zombie apocalypse. Crazy. And now here he was on the subway, listening to some old lady play “Old MacDonald” and the Beatles’ “Yesterday” on the tin whistle. This city was okay to visit, he thought, but he could never live here. He was afraid the crazy might rub off.
Insane On The 7 Train15 07 2010