The West 4th Street stop in Manhattan seems to attract all kinds of interesting characters. I enjoy going there because I'm never sure of who's going to be standing around looking for money in creative ways. Normally the whole begging thing irritates me, but I have to hand it to the folks who congregate at West 4th Street. They've taken Dollar Hunting to a whole new level.
For example, there's a man who plays slide guitar on select evenings. He sits in a metal folding chair while playing the same songs over and over. He's old, grungy and looks like he hasn't brushed his hair in a decade. The man never talks, not even a thank you for those who toss change into his guitar case. I've never seen him smile or even change facial expressions. He just sits there playing away, with a scowl on his face that's more Scrooge than Street Musician. I always wonder what his story is. Does he have a regular job? Is he some old drunk? Has he ever been married or have any kids? If he has kids, do they scowl all the time like he does?
Then there's the fat lady who sells ugly trinkets and strange teddy bears on the street above the subway exit. Her creations are bizarre, to say the least. She lines everything up in a row and looks patiently on as people walk by her wares. I have no idea if she ever sells anything. All I know is that she's almost always there and has her bears and plastic baubles set up in exactly the same way every time I see her.
The one Dollar Hunter that stands out most in my mind was a fellow who I've seen only once. He was sitting on the steps down to the subway entrance with a baseball cap full of change beside him. A beautiful little kitten was next to this hat, eating away at a morsel of food. It was obviously his pet, and they were both homeless. I think everyone was softened up by the sight of the cat, because the old man seemed to be doing well in the money department. His grungy cap was full of change and one dollar bills.
I've also seen a very intoxicated man hauling around a plastic garbage bag full of cans, weaving drunkenly through the waves of subway passengers as he looked through trash cans for more soda cans. He was wearing a rainbow hat that was utterly absurd, and muttered all sorts of interesting insults about police under his breath. He smelled awful, a mix of unwashed feet and gin being sweated out through dirty pores. If trolls exist, then this man was one of the tribe.
All in all, a very interesting group of people. I should also mention two other characters that are always at this subway stop. One is a flute player who plays jazz standards. Having made my way past him multiple times (and wincing in the process), I can say that flutes sound awful underground. They echo in mammoth blasts for yards, making everyone feel like they've been exposed to the shrieking of a banshee. The other musician always there is slightly less annoying. He plays a keyboard and thinks he's Stevie Wonder. He belts out tunes, letting his voice carry over the heads of everyone walking by. At first he sounds pretty good, but after a few listens, you realize he really isn't. His voice isn't very strong, and he is certainly no Stevie.
I wonder what other Dollar Hunters I will discover. The warmer months always bring out more people, strange ones included. Perhaps I'll see more trolls in rainbow hats, or old women selling hideously dressed teddy bears. Who knows. What is certain is this: I will be writing about them all, new and old discoveries alike.
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