My dear friend is Chinese-American, and when she told me that tomorrow begins the Year of the Rabbit, I knew that meant Chinese food to celebrate the new year. So off I went in the morning to pick us up a kosher Poo-Poo Platter, of which I believe there is no equivalent in real Chinese ethnic fare. At least my friend had never heard of it.
With the food securely placed in my backpack, I hit the underground, dragging my bike along. I sat down on a bench and prepared to wait the next few minutes for the train in quiet meditation. Then along comes a commuter, sits down right next to me and proceeds to take copious amounts of quarters from her pocket, all the while exclaiming joy with peels of laughter.
Frankly, I didn't want to turn around. Better I not know what's going on. I mean, maybe she robbed a bank and my knowing about would make me an accessory after the fact. But that wasn't it. My new found friend had gone to the right ticket dispensing machine to buy her day pass. Not only did she get the pass, but all her money back and then some.
The woman sitting on the other side of her asked if it was the dispenser closest to the wall. Yep, the newly rich woman replied. Ah-ha, the woman replied, the very dispenser that was stuck and wouldn't accept money a few minutes ago had given up it's load to one lucky lady.
It was like Vegas, only 30 feet underground. Buried treasure, I might add. Once again, all good.