The Silver Temple Show

Man, some days, all the outerspherics come out of hiding, like those few days a year when the flying ants emerge and you find them everywhere. I score a seat on the V train earlier today, and there's a rather rotund fellow in a yellow shirt seated next to me. He's staring out the window and humming loudly. Nutcase flags fly, and I take inventory of other seats. Then, I reconsider: he seems harmless, let's stick around and see what he's got! The singing stops, and he sits in silence. How disappointing! I turn my attention back to my book.

We're probably right under the middle of the East River when, without warning, the eye of the storm passes, and he's off!! Now he's an announcer for some mystic-themed reality game show called The Silver Temple Show. Jackpot! I think about my mini-tape recorder, collecting dust on my desk, and cry a little. In lieu of a complete transcription, the highlights (given in a high-pitched, enthusiastic voice): Congratulations to contestants Sean and [name] on surviving the first round ... Now here's what you have to do ... there's a password room, go to it ... find the three Temple Guards ... but watch out for the Guard Spirits ... very angry ... you'll have to fight ... but first, let's take a look at your prizes. Just for making it this far, we have...

Wow.

He gets off the train at 5th Ave (still announcing) to be replaced by a guy who smells like dirty laundry extract. Across the way, an elderly chap sits down wearing foam earplugs and a pout that could turn Mr. Rogers into a bitter existentialist. All in five minutes. Perhaps my life was in need of enrichment.