Trotting out of the subway this morning – the escalator is down, and I take the stairs at pace – I swerve around a guy giving out free copies of the Post. He’s dressed like a futuristic urban urchin from the good old days of Metal Hurlant, his face jutting out from under a series of wraps against the cold, the sun, the passing city grit. He’s not wearing mole-man slit sunglasses, but I wish he was.
Newspaper Guy: Free Post! Free Post! I get up tis mornin an tank Jesus for wakin me up so I can give you tis free newspaper! Free Post! Free Post!