New York has been retarded thus far. Aside from an hour delay in taking off from Charlotte and not getting here until after dark, I’ve thus far encountered someone who looked like Snoop Dogg, someone who looked like Bono, a place selling suits for $59 across the street (“We’re holding NOTHING back!”), this absurd gay-club-esque techno music coming from somewhere that sounds like a small town under my bed, traffic that would have made me quit driving a long time ago, a super cool cab driver, a super meh cab driver, in-house made ale, dim sum and shepherd’s pie at the Ear and breakfast at the Malibu Cafe across the road, which is the equivalent of the Waffle House if you added bagels and beer.

On the flight over, I looked over a girl’s shoulder who was watching a musical called “Newsies” on her laptop and tried to find any magic syncing with my Dark Side of the Moon that I had flowing through my ear buds. Surprisingly, it synced rather well during the Great Gig in the Sky, during which a boy danced and sang all alone on an empty street. Another woman on our flight from Knoxville to Charlotte, 2 rows behind us, took it upon herself to make a phone call before we took off to chew out whoever made her travel arrangements because she and whoever she was traveling with weren’t going to get to sit together on this terribly long 45 minute flight.

I had to stop reading “Holidays on Ice” by David Sedaris because I nearly finished the whole book during our two short flights. A brotha’s gotta have something to read on the way home!

Enjoy today’s haiku:

Hepcat is so good
I almost cannot stand it
Hold on…Yeah I can

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