I have been waiting for the right event to inspire me to begin this blog, and I believe today I have happened upon it.

Tonight on the subway ride home, I sat across from a very old woman in a wheelchair and her middle-aged son. The woman wore a black velvet baret, had wild white hair, and a chin full of bristley white whiskers. She was gumming a bagel with cream cheese oozing out the sides. The son found his mother's method of eating humorous, and proceeded to laugh uncontrollable. Suddenly, the old woman's dentures popped out of her mouth, covered with cream cheese and bits of bagel. As she attempted to replace the false teeth in her mouth, she dropped them, and they skidded across the floor of the subway car. The son got up, still laughing, picked up the dentures, and tried to stick the teeth back in his mother's mouth. The teeth seemed too big for her mouth, the son quickly became frustrated and angrily said, "Put your teeth in your mouth, Ma. They are your teeth" to which the mother retorted with an indistinguishable, but very loud answer.
The next 10 minutes was a verbal tug-of-war with the son repeating "Put 'em in your mouth!" and the mother responding with her grunts and grumbles. Eventually, a woman sitting near them said, "Why doesn't she wait until you get home. They have been on the floor, they don't belong in her mouth." The son didn't take to kindly to the strangers commentary, and the dialogue continued on even after I got off the subway.

Such is life in New York.