What I saw in the park

Yesterday I went out for my lunch break at about 4:00 p.m. It was about 95 degrees, hot and humid, but there was a nice breeze blowing off New York Harbor so it didn't seem so bad. It is always windy right down on the harbor.

I went to Subway for a sandwich. Let me just add that I think it is probably a sin to eat a Subway sandwich in New York City with all of the wonderful delis around that make far superior sandwiches BUT there is that $5 special AND I know the Weight Watchers points values of the Subway sandwiches. So, I committed that sin anyway and went out to the park to eat.

There is a park nearby with park benches surrounding a fountain. I sat down with my sandwich and started to eat. I saw . . .

A well dressed stock trader (I could see his tag) sat down, pulled up his left pant leg and started to vigorously scratch his left leg with both hands. Then he pulled down that pant leg, pulled up his right one and scratched his right leg as well.

A man, I'd say mid-thirties, came into the circle and strutted around daring anyone to notice him. He was wearing a negligee with a big red flower pattern. He was only wearing the negligee. It barely covered all the parts that so desperately needed to be covered. Every few steps he would flip the back up to reveal his behind. If he did catch anyone looking at him, he yelled, "What are you looking at?" He did not catch me looking. He finally sat down by two people who appeared to know him. I didn't look because I'm not sure what it might have looked like sitting down in that negligee. After all, I was eating.

A man speaking Russian on his cell phone did not sit but circled the fountain, round and round, talking the whole time.

A man, obviously a tourist (you can just tell) and his son, maybe an 8 year-old, were not quite running through the park. The boy obviously needed a toilet and it appeared that he wanted to run but couldn't. You know how it is. They were evidently heading toward the Museum of the Native American to try their luck there. And let me just say to Mayor Bloomberg and the city council members reading this blog that it is time to bring in the self-cleaning pay toilets like they have in Paris. We had a few of them and now they are gone. Bring them back.

Three little birds sat hopefully waiting for me to drop some crumbs. They got nothing from me. I mean, if you feed one . . .

A lady, elegantly-dressed but obviously homeless by the looks of her shopping cart, sat down and pulled out a small sandwich and started daintily eating. SHE fed the birds.

The tourist and his son came back, no longer in a rush, the man giving two thumbs up to the rest of his family across the park. I guess you can potty at the Museum of the Native American. I make a mental note of this for my upcoming book: Gotta Go NYC: a potty guide for tourists. I'm sure it will become a series with all the world's major cities featured. Except Paris. They don't need it. They have self-cleaning pay toilets (and besides that you can really go anywhere in Paris).

The man in the negligee strolled out. I caught him looking back over his shoulder every once in a while to see if anyone was looking. He didn't catch me looking.

My sandwich was gone and it was time to go back in.