(no subject)
Every morning I fantasize about starting one of those single-issue-wonk sites documenting the local wildlife in the subway. I will call it I Hate Your Panflute.
My local station, the 5th Ave./53rd St. E/V station, drops me about a building away from work (as opposed to my local-to-home station, Bay Ridge Avenue, which is thankfully rather dull). Unlike 34th Street and other stations with high tourist flow, it does not have a panflute infestation (seriously guys, if The Sound of Silence and My Heart Will Go On were banned from your repertoire, you'd have nothing left to go on), but it's got plenty who suffer from delusions of being in some way entertaining. The most common is Douche With A Guitar, who comes in all ages, races, and varieties (the older guy who yelps rather than sings, some young hipster, the other older guy who knows about two songs) but really only one level of musical talent, but there is also Creepy Gospel Family and the occasional troll-tastic stylings of The Vociferous Coot. Everyone's gotta be famous these days.
At least they aren't on the train proper. I've started to wonder lately if people who get on trains to "perform" (read: generally be pains in the ass to everyone) do so because they can get away with it. It's supposed to be illegal, what with the whole no-soliciting-money thing, but the usual crowd response in New York is to just ignore anything and everything angling for your attention. After being chased through three train cars last weekend by another Douche With A Guitar, I've started to wonder what would happen if someone just went up to them and asked, as politely as possible, if they would please just for the love of god stop.
I did have a dream wherein I tried it. They just ignored me and kept going. Such is New York.
My local station, the 5th Ave./53rd St. E/V station, drops me about a building away from work (as opposed to my local-to-home station, Bay Ridge Avenue, which is thankfully rather dull). Unlike 34th Street and other stations with high tourist flow, it does not have a panflute infestation (seriously guys, if The Sound of Silence and My Heart Will Go On were banned from your repertoire, you'd have nothing left to go on), but it's got plenty who suffer from delusions of being in some way entertaining. The most common is Douche With A Guitar, who comes in all ages, races, and varieties (the older guy who yelps rather than sings, some young hipster, the other older guy who knows about two songs) but really only one level of musical talent, but there is also Creepy Gospel Family and the occasional troll-tastic stylings of The Vociferous Coot. Everyone's gotta be famous these days.
At least they aren't on the train proper. I've started to wonder lately if people who get on trains to "perform" (read: generally be pains in the ass to everyone) do so because they can get away with it. It's supposed to be illegal, what with the whole no-soliciting-money thing, but the usual crowd response in New York is to just ignore anything and everything angling for your attention. After being chased through three train cars last weekend by another Douche With A Guitar, I've started to wonder what would happen if someone just went up to them and asked, as politely as possible, if they would please just for the love of god stop.
I did have a dream wherein I tried it. They just ignored me and kept going. Such is New York.