The sporadic cheers of worldcup soccer fans from the street below my apartment runs a close second.
On my walk to work today, there was an elderly woman standing outside the Italian restaurant right next door to my store. Easily in her late seventies, she looked as if she was waiting for someone. Perhaps she had just finished a meal with her daughter who was using the ladies room before they stepped out into the Soho streets... maybe. But most assuredly, strategically placed above her ear in her pillowy white hair, I spied an unmistakable blue streak; punk was clearly this conservative woman's subtext.
Flowers, team sports, hair-dye; we all have our little pleasures.
Hope you're enjoying yours.
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