Subways cause an amazing phenomenon on the sidewalks that New Yorkers seem to appreciate more than anyone else...
I met up with Candice for dinner in SoHo the other night, and I was a bit early, so I was leaning up against a wall waiting for her, people-watching (actually, my nose was in the last chapter of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, but that's not what this story is about so bear with me!). I came to realize that I was standing right in front of a subway grate that stretched acorss the entire width of the sidewalk, virtually impossible to avoid. Well, it's been hot in NYC, so a lot of women wear skirts and dresses. You see where I'm going with this?
Time after time, innocent women who were just trying to get from point A to point B became victim of the menacing wafts of warm air billowing from the depths of the tunnel below. It never got old. Nevermind the fact that I was actually standing directly next to the vent watching woman after woman walk by and get embarrassed and laugh after their undergarments were flashed to the people walking behind (and in front) of them.
Yet another reason I'm glad I wear pants. And underwear.
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