Dear G Train,
The things I smell on you are out of this world. In the worst way possible.
Dear A/C Train,
The things I see on you astound me. (Man with the stuffed armadillo, I’m looking at you.) Thank you for making my daily commute endlessly entertaining, despite your frequent failure to run smoothly.
Dear Old Woman,
I promise I’m not staring at you because I think you’re crazy. I just love to watch you draw people on the subway. Spotting you every few weeks becomes the highlight of my day. Draw me, please?
Dear Subway Churro,
One of these days I’ll buy you. And eat you. And I’ll enjoy every second of it.
Dear Cranky Old Man,
I saw you taking up that seat with your lunch box in the middle of the morning rush hour. I also saw you turn that old woman away when she needed somewhere to sit. You, sir, are a horrible person. Santa is bringing you coal.
Dear Christmas Market,
You are absolutely the best thing ever. I want to buy everything. For now, though, I’ll settle for the waffles. And that ridiculous ring I bought that might be the coolest piece of jewelry I own.
Dear Film Crew Dude,
All I wanted to know was what you were filming. It’s not like I was planning to harass the stars. Unless, of course, you had Dame Maggie Smith in that limo. Or Judi Dench. Then I might’ve been uncontrollable.
Dear FOA Schwarz,
I know you’re going to be insane in the coming weeks, but I promise to pay you a visit. Even if it means standing in line with all the tiny children and their parents. If I can watch them put up the tree at Rockefeller Center, I can brave a toy store. …I think.
Dear Strange Puddle,
I see you everywhere in the subway and you make me nervous. I’d ask what you are, only I’m not sure I want to know the answer.
Dear NY Marathon Installation at Columbus Circle,
I’m going to mourn the day when you disappear. You make walking through the station enjoyable. Except when that crazy woman stands there and yells at the wall of names. She’s a little too intense for my tastes.