Mere moments previous, I just watched a man run desperately, and perhaps drunkenly, in a particularly madcap fashion across the street, nearly tripping over the edge of the sidewalk, down to the Subway submarine sandwich shop. As soon as he reached it he realized it was in no way open, turned around, and wandered calmly back the way he came. To European Pizza.
Around the corner, I heard a completely different man yelling, perhaps sarcastically, about how much coke was in his back pocket, because he was such an enormous cokehead. He seemed to be yelling it to the people in the hotel lobby. Who also seemed not particularly interested in any of it. He was pointing at his ass through most of it.
It's only Wednesday night. And I haven't even told you the crazy parts.
What on Earth will the weekend hold?