I’ve been reading Luc Sante’s Low Life, a great book, and also one that is a convincing argument for soaking more fully in New York’s flavor. It’s not the Bowery of the 1890s, but there was a remarkable array of people strolling down Park Avenue at lunchtime today (likely because today was hands down the nicest day of the year thus far). I saw people with guidebooks, middle-aged office workers taking noontime strolls in tennis shoes, a man with a dog that crapped in front of oncoming traffic at a crosswalk, a woman in a cherry-red power suit, three or four couples making out in front of the Citi building, and, best of all, a man in a three-piece purple suit, topped off by a fuzzy purple-fur beret. And this, in one of the tamest parts of town …

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