Two By Two...

When entering a subway car, a New Yorker always glances around to see if there's an available seat. Any small chunk of space between the lady sloppily munching on Fritos and the man spreading out his newspaper is fair game. Occasionally, a larger block of seats opens up. But this event is sometimes cause for alarm, as there is usually an unpleasant reason for it.

Last night, I squeezed onto a C train at the Broadway-Nassau station. It was difficult to get on the car because of a clump of passengers scrunched next to the door. I craned my neck to see if there might be a seat somewhere. Then, in front of me, I saw that oasis: an entire bench of available seats!

But as I walked closer, I became aware of a strange and disturbing smell, sort of like cat pee. And then I saw the reason for the empty seats: a bedraggled lunatic with a long grey beard was spewing a stream of the vilest invective. That alone would not have been an unusual occurrence, but this was no ordinary lunatic. Sitting next to him were two cats, each with their noses in a separate can of cat food, happily munching away, and completely oblivious to their owner's noisy discontent.