I got off the subway train but I didn’t know the station. It was very dank and somebody was playing the electric violin.
In one corner at the bottom of the stairway stood a black kid in white terrycloth tights, doing Karate Kid moves and singing “The Battle Hymn Of The Republic (Mine Eyes Have Seen The Glory)” in an awful falsetto. He was staring straight at a Catholic nun while doing this — she was also black. She perched on her suitcase, smiling back at him. An older Jewish man tried to scoot by, loudly humming, “Hello, Dolly!” The kid whirled around and hoofed him in the bum. As we took the stairs the Jewish fellow turned to me and said,“Jesus Christ, what a city!”
I got to the top of the stairs and stood, blinking back the sunlight.
I had arrived at Times Square.
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