Goodbye 34th Street!

Today, I am leaving my job to start a new one. It's a joyous occasion. Not just because I'll be making more money in my new job (stackin' papers), but also because I won't have to deal with the absolutely infuriating bullshit that is 34th street. Here's the shit I won't miss:

1. CANCER

    Our nation is slowly quitting cigarettes. They're almost completely gone. Except for 34th street. Apparently, every smoker in the world makes their smoker's pilgrimage to Herald Square to walk and smoke. There isn't an inch of 34th street that I can walk on that isn't raped by the cancerous smokey offspring of someone's mouth.

    Also, what's extra insulting, is these fuckers try every single method of alternate smoking under the sun. As if they take their nicotine through a cigarette with a blue electric tip, they won't have to get a tracheotomy later. Or if they inhale their tar gas through a black box with a nifty metal tip, they won't die 25 years earlier than they should.

    These dumb fuckers think they're crafty. All they are is a bunch of inconsiderate cunts who hope to give all of 34th street a headache with a chance of death.


2. EMPIRE STATE HAWKERS

    At this job, I got to walk past the Empire State Building every day. Pretty cool, right?

    WRONG. FUCKING WRONG. Why? Because the Empire State Building employs an army of people bugging every person on the street to purchase tickets to get a tour. A fucking army. They stand in clumps, asking you if you're "going up". They also form an impenetrable wall with the tourists. I've had to walk in the middle of the street more times than I can count just to get around the mass of idiot tourists and sales people.

    I hear you though. You're saying, "But Jaysef. Stop being an asshole. They are just trying to earn an honest wage."

   Here's what I say to you: Fuck you. First, I'm allowed to have irrational hate of things, as long as I don't physically harm anyone. Second, they blocked me for months on end. I can't take that shit anymore. And last, some of those people aren't working. They seriously stand around shooting the shit about random things. I overheard, as I pushed past a group of them, a guy talking about "getting his nut". For real? Why the hell are you blocking everyone's way, talking about jizzing in someone. Move your dumb ass to the side of the street. Cum talk is not needed in the middle of the street.

   And the worst part: the tourists that engage that shit. They don't realize the irreparable damage they're doing by engaging them. Go inside the building to buy your tickets. Stop clogging up the streets with your wealthy tourist ass, and go where you're supposed to go, you fucking sheep. Please, continue to come to New York. We want your rubles and yen and euros. But go where we tell you, nay, NEED you to go, so we can all get to work, to pay taxes, to make sure this bitch is still here so you can visit it!!! Fuckin dumb ass blonde swedish mother fucker and his gaggle of well adjusted teens getting in my way. I NEED A PAYCHECK MOTHER FUCKER!! I NEED TO WORK!!

3. THE 34TH STREET TRAIN STATION
   The 34th St. subway station is where order and law go to die. The shit is about 3 or 4 stories deep in the ground, filled with people that have no clue where they're going, and filled a cacophony of noise that drowns out any rational thoughts you might have. I feel like I'm walking into the fucking Mines of Moria or some shit. It is a nexus of time and dreams, meant to sap the very soul from you.

Me when I spend more than 5 minutes surround by fucktards at 34th street.

The one thing I will miss:

THE SUBWAY PERFORMERS

     34th street, in my opinion, has the most insane cadre of crazies in the subway underground scene.

I've seen big bands, jazz groups, acrobats, rock bands, brass house groups, metal guitarists, and even a pop standards violin player. I will talk briefly about some of the highlights.

REMY FRANCOIS

Every once in a while, I would be greeted by the non-sensical tones of Remy Francois. He is just as you see him here. He wears a gold crown, has a wild, unkept black moustache, plays an electric guitar, and only sings songs in french.

The craziest part is that he ignores rhythm entirely. I would say he changes time signature every measure, but that would be assuming he honors a time signature in the first place. His sense of rhythm is so non-existent, that it throws you off your natural stride. I try to walk past him when he's playing, and every step I take becomes more gradually out of sync with my stride. He is a mind wizard with his music noise. I will miss him . . .I think.

MIKE GROISMAN

This dude SHREDS. The second you get off your train, this guy is blasting something and KILLING IT. 

The crazy part is he is doing this at 9 AM. If you were tired when you got on the train, you are awakened by his metal melodies.

Also, if you're reading this Mike, your CDs don't have any music on them. Thought you should know. I don't regret giving you $5. . ..but I wish I had music.

ASIAN JAZZ DRUMMER

I don't have a picture of her, because I can't find any on the interwebs, which only fits her mystique.

One morning, I heard a jazz trio playing. It was a pretty cool thing to hear live so early in the morning. There was a older jewish man playing the saxophone, a middle age black man playing bass, and. . .. . a grumpy ass chinese woman KILLING the drums. She kept that shit clean, and she did it with a horrible grimace on her face. Also, her face never moved. While her body was moving furiously to keep the band in time, her head was in an alternate space and time. It stayed still the entire song. Her eyes were glazed over like her child was asking to watch Frozen for the hundreth time, and her frown was so epic that I'm sure Beowulf would even say "That's a good frown".

Her anger and discontent at playing the drums so masterfully was beautiful. I loved it.

Goodbye 34th St. Have a great, cancerous life. I'm off to DUMBO.