I was trying to leave the subway (all my bad NY stories begin in the subway); I came upon the elevator. The door slid open to emit a terrible smell, a vision of a puddle on the floor, and, nicely stored at the back of the elevator in a Starbucks cup, a large mass of human turd. As I recovered from the wave of nausea, a couple of things hit me:
- it's around 2/2.30 on a weekday in a busy station. How do you do that uninterrupted. Surely, you don't do it with an audience?
- Points for style and technique. It's hard to get it in a cup. And this person must have been pretty quick about it. The elevator is not THAT slow.
- How do you know whether it is a grande or a venti day??