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humanity of stained glass
Monday, December 10 2001
There was an Asian girl on the subway this morning who, I'm convinced, was actually a robot programmed to showcase the latest experimental fashions. She was wearing this strange asymmetrical white skirt that hung down a full foot lower on the right side than it did on the left, and her stockings were patterned, well, plaid. But the thing that tipped me off to the fact that her flawless appearance was but a thin rubber skin overlaying a skeleton of stainless steel mechanisms was her eyes, dark pools of artificial blue obscuring the cameras beneath. Momentarily she looked over at me to beam my sorry excuse for fashion back to Houston (Street). She had all the humanity of stained glass.
The holiday shopping season is one of the few times I'm sent in search of stores that I would not normally patronize. I never seem to remember before setting out on such forays that stores of a specific variety are often not very dense upon the land, even land as rich and commercial as Manhattan. But eventually I found what I was looking for, Scrabble Deluxe, at a store near Union Square.
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