This afternoon a very glittering Boy George-type young man is sitting across from me on the 6. I study him all the way from 14th street until 59th. He is wearing chunky very high suede boots with silky fur trim and a black and silver studded belt keeps his distressed dark denim skinny jeans from hanging of his bony backside. He has a spiky gelled hair that is just a little bit Mohawk and giant silver sparkly flower stud earrings. His loose fitting long sleeve black v-neck is very chic. He is one of those people you cannot tell how old they are. He could be 19, he could be 35. Who knows. As he gets off at his stop he sees me staring and winks.
Good bye my glamorous lady-boy.
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