new york city is old. it's damn old. not quite old europe old but old enough to be san francisco's grandfather. case in point: the bastards cousin rolls in from california for a visit a few years back. she's number 3 of 3. so this is the first time that 3 has been to nyc since she hit the drinking age (which turned out of town family visits into drunken sojurns), and we're walking around the east village. now the bastard and the nice lady used to do alot of tour guide duty when relatives come in from outta town so we get our schtick on. long story already getting long, the nice lady points out to number 3 that this is kind of the trendy part of town (before sex in the city). number three responds, "more like the dirty part of town". it was then that the bastard had to remind himself that number 3's high watermark for a ciy's age is san francisco (wehre she works, near where she lives). san francisco was destroyed by a fire long after new york was already an old man so there you have it.
anyway, the streets tend to get grooved by traffic over time. it takes on a bizarre sculptural quality as you walk down the way. but when it rains out it turns into a water slide as i saw this morning. this young thing and her friend were ahead of me on the street. they sound like they are from out of town but i know that they live here because the left penn station behind me yesterday morning and walked east. i know that they aren't from around here because the bastard got to hear them talk and they don't sound like here so much. anyway, friend one is wearing a trenchcoat and nylon track pants. always a winning combo when a cab rolls by and she gets the full on water slide treatment. "bastard!", she yells. "what?", i yell back. no, i actually didn't but for a brief minute i thought, that would really be a good response. oh well, 4 more days til vegas. at least there's a good chance i won't feel like a wet rat there at any given time. squeak, squeak i tell you!!
—the bastard
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