Invisible Dogs In Brooklyn

So the other day, Andrew and I go off to find some lunch and are gob-smacked by the sight that befell us:

Every where we look are groups of people walking their invisible dogs! Seriously, these dogs were interacting with everyone in the streets, and their owners were petting them. They were really there!! But we couldn't see them....

Some say you are your own best company...

I am coming to the conclusion that the crazy people in NY favour one train line over most others. The "F" line seems to attract them like moths to a flame.

Once again, in the wee hours of the morning, we were making our way home and we were treated to a very interesting sight.

Sitting in the train-car when we arrived was a rather masculine-looking woman. Whether this was a he-she or a transvestite or not, we never reached a definate conclusion. No matter, we got quite an amusing show, none the less. For the entire 45-minute ride, she sat across from us and had an argument with herself, verbalising both sides of the conversation:
"I want to go to Coney Island. Is this train going to Coney Island?"
"You can't go to Coney Island."
"But I wanna go to Coney Island."
"You don't have enough to go to Coney Island"
"I want to go to Coney Island."

We stopped at one of the stations and the dispatcher held the train there for some unknown reason.

"Sonny, you gotta get off this train"
"But I wanna go to Coney Island"
"You don't have enough to get to Coney Island"

Then twice she got up, left the train, came back and argued some more.

We eventually decided to walk from there, so we never did find out if she made it to Coney Island.

$5 to make the drop shot

Late one friday night (Saturday morning actually) Andrew & I were on our way home, via Time Square. While waiting for the light to change we noticed an unkempt man standing a few feet behind us and talking rather loudly.

It turns out that this man (I don't know if he was homeless or not) was asking someone to bet him $5 to make a drop shot into the rubbish bin. It is still unclear whether he was talking directly to us, or if there was an invisible friend, or if he was just talking to the air in general.

The 3-odd minutes that we were waiting there went like this:
"5 dollars to make the drop shot. C'mon, bet me 5 dollars!"
He walks a few feet from the bin, shoots, misses.
"Aw, missed by a mile!"
"5 dollars to make the drop shot. C'mon, bet me 5 dollars!"
He takes the shot again, misses.
"Aw, what a shame! So close!"

He was still doing that when the light changed.