Subway Entertainment
Last night the most wonderful thing happened to me. There I was, sitting on the subway, when a man came bursting into our car with bells jangling. He was carrying an old fashioned box and a stand to put it on. "Oh my god, he's going to do magic," I whispered excitedly to Katie. "No he's not," Katie said, incessently thinking that I am wrong and she is right. Well this time, my friends, Katie was wrong. So very wrong.
The magician, a Spanish guy with long curly hair, had the energy of three 5-year-old children. He was leaping and running and waving things in people's faces and jangling his bells all over the place. No one else in the subway seemed to care much for his special brand of enthusiasm, but he certianly had me going, as I leaned forward in my seat with a big stupid grin. He had a small box that was empty, and then, because I was clearly so eager, he had me open the box, which now contained a stuffed ferret, which he shook at me, trying to scare me. I was delighted. He did a few other mediocre tricks, and then hit his grand finale with a real dove. A real dove in the subway! This is entertainment, my friends. But the true highlight of the act was not to be topped even by a dove. He went up to a girl who wasn't joining in on the magic fun, reached under her legs, and suddenly there was a slutty thong in his hand. He kept his arm under her legs for a moment too long, oh god, her face was priceless. He went a step further, shaking the thong in her face, asking her if it was hers. I was afraid that she was going to burn his face off with her evil angry stare. She was PISSED. I don't know if this social discomfort was part of his act, but it was certainly the highlight, and he seemed to be milking it for all it was worth.
(turns out, it was worth all the change in my purse)
If you're homeless in New York and you're reading this right now (because I know how thatsplenty attracts homeless people), take notes! Do magic, jump around, create social discomfort! This is the way to get our money! Asking me for a sandwich and a place to sleep just isn't cutting it anymore. I want to be entertained. (Unless you're that blind lady who sings amazing grace and taps complicated rhythms with your cane and feet, because you're doing just great. Also disregard this if you're that man who carries an amp on your back and one of those Britney Spears mic and an electric guitar and plays Jimmy Hendrix and Lynyrd Skynyrd with your awesome scratchy voice. You're probably the best subway act I've ever seen.)