As I walked out of my apartment today, I saw two machismo workmen cleaning out the garbage cans. The two Latino matadors smiled at me and made some joking gesture to each other – I guess I had on a tad too much spice lip-gloss.
Suddenly, the men let out two huge screams. I turned my head to watch a small rat run out from behind the garbage cans. Another rat ran out and the men screamed louder and jumped into each other’s arms. A third rat ran across my feet and the men howled again.
I remained expressionless, after all, this was NYC and rats are as common as Duane Reade drugstores.
The screaming had attracted a crowd – the many faces looked at my glossy lips and the two quivering men. The irony of the situation was lost on no one.
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