I went to my local Staples today to pick up yet
another ream of printer paper (damn those job applications!).
On the way up the escalator, I criss-crossed, on the down escalator, a stocky black man probably in his early forties. He was dressed with hip-hop flair, his eyes hidden by sunglasses, and he was grooving slightly from side to side, snapping the fingers of one hand. . . while with the other hand he held a fully-assembled clarinet.
Staples. What the fuck?
I love this city.
