On the way back to the Lincoln Tunnel, as I was waiting in a long line of traffic, I saw a peculiar little man walking past. He was wearing a hachimoto headband, a thigh-length blue cotton robe, shorts, and wooden sandals. He was carrying a gnarled wooden stick, and through the sash that held his robe closed, he had jammed a black, wrought-iron daisho - long and short sword, just like a samurai.
I'd really love to know that story. New York is ... one of a kind.