Ahhh... there's nothing quite like the smell of urine in the morning. That unmistakable, effervescent aroma feels like daggers on my nasal passages as we're descending the steps down to the subway station. Though, it does kinda clear my sinuses... but not really in a good way. To enter a New York City subway station is to be attacked upon all your senses. Besides the yummy smells, there's also the sight of the throngs of people trying to get to work, the distinct sounds of rumbling train cars grinding over the tracks, and a heightened awareness of the position of your wallet... as in, whether or not it's still in your pocket. 
Luckily, our pockets haven't been picked [yet], but the subway is definitely full of characters... some begging, some singing, some good, some bad, some rude, some mad, and some just plain weird. All, however, are undeniably entertaining. There's the Asian dude singing Hoobastank songs at the Port Authority station; the Goth chick belting out opera verses at the 86th Street station; the big black lady at 42nd Street doing her best Aretha... and nailing it; the old dude playing Spanish guitar on the C train; 
and the quirky white chick who sounds eerily like the lead singer of the Bangles singing 80's tunes from a karaoke box at 53rd and Lex. But by far, the best of the bunch was the guy at the Times Square station busting out his rendition of Lionel Richie's Still. There's just always something so jive-turkey-smooth about an old Lionel Richie song. Besides, the guy was so good that we thought he was lip-syncing to a recording... definitely deserving of the big 1-dollar bill the wifey tipped him. We're big tippers, I know. Today's Good Eats:
Speaking of tips, we just got another two awesome ones from Andrew, our hedgefund/boiler-room-working nephew. Not for stocks, but for ice cream and mussels. Yum. No, not together... that would look like vomit. I'm talkin' il Laboratorio del Gelato, a hole in the wall on the Lower East Side scooping up some damn good gelato. Smooth as silk and with flavors like honey chestnut, amaretto, lavender, and earl grey, the place stirs up some fond memories of Florence, Italy. 
For dinner, Flex Mussels on the Upper East Side serves up steamed mussels by the bucket. The sauces are excellent, and the flavors reminded us of the mussels we had in Paris. Don't forget the fries. The wifey and I sat at the bar and munched on those tasty mollusks til closing. You know these places are good when you start comparing them to places in Europe. That sneaky little Andrew calls it right again. Random Stuff:
- We would've tipped Bangles chick, but she kinda copped an attitude about people not tipping her enough... so no big 1-dollar bill for her!
- There's two breeds of subway "characters"... ones that do their thang at the station, and ones that kinda hijack the train. Once the doors close, they make their schpeel to the whole car, and like it or not, everyone is subjected to their singing, begging, or... I guess... marketing. Our favorite were the three "entrepreneurial" black kids making a killing selling candy for a buck on the E train. Kinda reminded me of that kid from Role Models.
- We're laying out on a lawn chair on Broadway in the middle of Times Square. How cool is that?
Laying Out in Times Square
A Night at the Met
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