Mondays and Wednesdays I work double shifts. Our location is kind of perfect of people watching. Tourists, locals, bums, busboys, billionaires and the beautifully tragic.
Here is a small tally of things I saw from my window yesterday:
Five skinny jean wearing hipsters with hair wider than their waists.
Three perfect asses.
One douche carrying a longboard skateboard lose a wheel and almost lost his head as he chased it into traffic. I was cheering for the traffic. Longboard skateboard? Really?
Two sets of those stovepipe calves that just let you know a chick is lazy.
One girl who full stopped in the middle of the crosswalk to talk on her phone. She blocked traffic for a good five minutes.
Seven hurricane lamps that I had to put up in our windows while it was light out that did nothing for business.
Five golden rings.
No, seriously. Five married chicks. Two of whom are married to high up NYC detectives. They’re a part of a cougar pack who come into the bar to hook up with young boys. Now, I’m all about the illicit hook up, but damn if that isn’t a gray way to get shot.