“The funniest thing happened to me last month. Maybe two months ago? Anyway, it was cold, I remember that because I had my big Marc Jacobs bag. Remember Tom from college? We were at this house party in Brooklyn—Bushwick of all places!—and this guy, this absolute asshole, spilled his entire cup of, I don’t know, PBR all over my bag. So everything was ruined! And Tom, who you know isn’t even really smart but great at these sorts of things, goes into the kitchen and steals a bag of white rice! You know—here is the best part—I don’t think I’ve so much as touched rice, outside of the occasional spicy tuna roll, in like three years. So he opens it up and rice is going everywhere, and he plunges my phone into the middle of the bag and ties it off with one of my ponytail holders. And he says, We’re leaving and we march out of this disgusting house party in, like, Bushwick or whatever, and head to some diner and order coffee with this mountain of rice on the table when my cellphone rings! Through all that rice! It was a real miracle, you know, at the time at least we thought it was, and you know I don’t believe in that sort of crap anyway. So now I eat rice. Just brown rice, really.”
Subway MapSubway Philosophy is about New York, culture, sex, publishing, memories, alcohol, or a combination of the above. Originally taken from drunken musings on the subway, it has evolved into something extraordinarily similar to most young blogs: which is to say, redundant, romantic, and woefully introspective.
Current Subway ReadingWhite Teeth