A man got on the L this morning at 1st Ave with what at first seemed a self-styled buccaneer's hat, festooned with mismatched and occasionally worn and/or flaccid plumage (for these were plumes). Time to gauge crazosity.
Other details: a hat band made of craftstore plastic beads but not faceted because that would be unfashionable, a generally angry countenance, some sort of Marine 'Wing' jacket. Then the bird chirps started.
Oh yes. He'd spent plenty of time developing these. At first a few eyebrows twitched, but what's there to do beyond be annoyed at some freak's need to make bird noises. On the other side of the pole I was fortunate enough to be sharing with said freak, the bird noises stopped. His head darted out from side to side, to see if anyone had 'figured out' he was making the sounds (or so I assume).
He became disgusted. With us. Us all. All us paltry PEOPLE.
"God damn f&ckers. Never change. Always the same. Nothing never no different. I should just...[assorted violent fantasies, tuned out while I pondered his not double- but triple-negative]." Ah, Union Square, old friend. Take me into your belly. And make the birdman trip and lose his hat or at least not get on my next train.
We exited. As I neared the stairs, cawing echoed down the platform. People laughed.
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2 comments:
Ah, you saw the Birdman. So glad to know he's still around. He's a NY institution, fer reals. Been seeing him (upper Chelsea/lower Midtown) for years but hadn't spotted him in a while. I thought he'd flown the coop!
Thankfully, until today, I'd only been aware of the Green Lady. I see her like twice a month. Bit odd, that.
But at least other people see her, too.
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