curiously, one window on the 51st street port-a-potty has been smashed. the guard, who’s sole responsibility is to sit in the windowed port-a-potty, has taped a chinese menu over the jagged edges of glass presumably to block the wind.
i wonder what his supervisors will have to say.
“Give me an ounce of fact and I will produce you a ton of theory by tea this afternoon. That is, after all, my job.”