There's no place like New York (for people watching)
Springtime had erupted in Gramercy Park, and Manhattan's best paraded through. Juliet crossed her legs on the slatted bench, turned on her iPad 3, and surreptitiously glanced over her Kate Spade sunglasses at the stunning display of humanity.
Two older men walked abreast, one with a shaved bald head, the other a magnificent coif. Their pace was brisk, and Juliet saw yellow-striped socks flash out beneath their perfectly rolled trouser legs. She smiled: The socks were identical. She snapped a photo with the iPad's 5mp iSight camera.
An old, old woman coursed her way through the spring pastels in black on black on black. Her outfit was not prim, nor out of place -- classic. Juliet took another photo and admired every detail on the retina display.
A young man had circled the park some four times now, slowing near Juliet's bench each revolution but moving on. This time he steeled himself, thumbed the belt loops on his absurdly fashionable Nantucket Red shorts, and approached.
Juliet's cold Manhattan sensibilities kicked in and she prepared to dismiss this young man with a "go thither" gaze. But she saw in his approach an earnestness uncommon in the City set, a Minnesota sincerity that broke through her armor.
"Nice day." He said, and Juliet turned off the iPad.