Earlier this week, a homeless man was panhandling in the subway.
“Do you know what it’s like to try and sleep on the train?” he asked all of us. “I can’t! People are always trying to touch my buttocks.”
Given his immense smell, I was skeptical. But sympathetic nonetheless.
Today, walking back to my office after a lunch break, about 15 young French people were playing a variation of the game of Freeze Tag on the sidewalk.
Last night, I had Korean raspberry wine. At a Korean vegan restaurant.