One of those Strange New York Stories
I was walking slowly up the Morningside Park steps recently—it's a notoriously greuling climb, especially for black-lunged smokers like me—when I came upon an unmolested coconut sitting exactly in the middle of one of the steps. A fat, crazy-eyed bum was standing next to it, just staring at it. "I hope that ain't no bomb," he said as I passed, flashing me a gap-toothed grin. "Yeah, I hope not," I said.
Then I got the hell out of there.
I was walking slowly up the Morningside Park steps recently—it's a notoriously greuling climb, especially for black-lunged smokers like me—when I came upon an unmolested coconut sitting exactly in the middle of one of the steps. A fat, crazy-eyed bum was standing next to it, just staring at it. "I hope that ain't no bomb," he said as I passed, flashing me a gap-toothed grin. "Yeah, I hope not," I said.
Then I got the hell out of there.
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