Stand clear of the closing doors

First things first, Yankees 13 Mariner 2. Beautiful day for a baseball game in the Bronx. Met up with Jolly Skartvedt and two middle aged friends of his at a restaurant outside the stadium where we ordered different variations of Jerk Chicken entrees as one of the guys, Lou, got visibly frustrated with the service. The waiter tried to remember our simple orders (Jerk Chicken wrap, Jerk Chicken dinner, etc..) and failed miserably. Needless to say, it was a great game. The Yanks just poured on run after run while lighting up Erik Bedard. Andy Petite was fantastic and Shelly Duncan hit a 3 run bomb to left to start the explosion. Jolly was being hit on all game by the girl across the aisle who seemed to be there with her boyfriend.

One thing that I truly hate about New York City is the abundance of people who walk around talking to themselves. I'm not talking about the ones who are singing to themselves listening to their iPods or muttering as they step in a puddle. Its the people who are standing at the corner having an obviously one-sided conversation with no one in particular. The guy in the park sitting on the bench snapping at someone invisible sitting next to him. The old woman with the grocery bag who stops in the middle of the cross walk to ask a question of someone when there is no one within 30 feet of her. I am aware that in all likelihood a majority of these individuals are clearly disturbed. My run ins with these people unnerve me more than anything else that I have encountered lately. Except for that time last week when I ran into a possum (sp?) outside the garage!

As I was walking through Penn station earlier tonight on my way home, a dude approached me and asked for 75 cents. I was a little taken aback by the request for such an exact and small amount of money. Having only one quarter in my pocket, I handed it to him and apologized for some reason. I hadn't taken 3 steps before I passed this young couple being propositioned by this one obviously down on his luck dude. I had heard the story before "I'm really sorry to have to bother you, but I lost my wallet and have no way of getting home, could I just borrow $10 to buy a train ticket?" or "I AM NOT A BUM, and I wouldn't be asking you this if I wasn't in such a bind, but could you help me out with such and such". This is the definition of a 'Boy who cried wolf' scene. Obviously there are people who get their wallets stolen, lose their cellphone, etc... and have to resort to asking complete strangers for a few bucks to get them going again. However, there also would seem to be people who, by impersonating the aforementioned individuals, could make a few quick bucks with this ploy. The later group is really ruining it for all those poor people who fall upon some bad luck away from home and nowhere to turn. I guess this isn't really a boy crying wolf, but one boy crying "wolf!" when there is no wolf around and another boy coming along and crying "wolf!" only to be ignored and eaten by the wolf.