Day 4

Very slow today. Can’t remember much exciting going on. Came out with twenty more bucks to my name. Not much for tips, but tons of people taking pictures from afar; it’s the tunnel and the guitar player. They don’t even listen to what I’m playing. Just take the picture quick and they’re off. Some folks might get angry about it, but I don’t. No one asked me to set up down here. I take note that I saw over one hundred Abercrombie and Fitch bags. Whoever the pretty boy model is on this bag is now forever etched into my mind. Beautiful men…beautiful women…beautiful children, from every country imaginable, pass by. I listen to the different languages spoken and try to figure out where they’re from. I’m feeling a little lonely today. It just hits some days. I’ve stopped playing the Rolling Stones Dead Flowers song. I love to play it, but for some reason singing lyrics about heroin and dead flowers and roses on a grave as little children and mothers stroll around the beautiful confines of Central Park seems a bit morbid.
I had to laugh as I was walking out of the park past the portrait artists and vendor that sell photos of New York. There’s a guy who sells screenplays for movies. An old Jewish woman approached him and asked if he had one for Golden Girls. Nothing against the show, I just didn’t think it was something one would really want a screenplay of. He didn’t and the old woman walked away dejectedly with thoughts of Bea Arthur.