I think it's true that there are more characters on the streets of New York than in other cities. Or maybe they're just louder so you notice them. In any case, it makes for a less lonely place.
I particularly liked the conversation I overheard while walking back from SoHo's Vesuvio playground to our sublet one perfectly warm afternoon when all the adults appeared to be on lunch break.
A happy trio in front of us, two men and a lady, all in business casual, had the air of just finishing up at a restaurant and one of the men, a large African American fellow, suddenly exclaimed: "I got to set these twenty somethings straight! I'm a 42-year-old married man and at the office they come up to me and say things like 'mmm you smell good' or 'I love your shirt, where did you buy that?' They lean over the office equipment in front of me," he continued, "and they do fist pumps when I say something amusing."
The woman in the group was slapping her thigh and laughing so hard she was bent at a right angle to the pavement. We had to walk around her.
