On several occasions, I've taken out my house keys when approaching the subway turnstiles, and I've produced my metrocard at the ATM. However, I've never reached for my metrocard at the door of my apartment, and I've yet to swipe my ATM card in the subway turnstiles.
A is mistaken for B, and B is mistaken for C, but B is not mistaken for A, and C is never mistaken for B.
What does that mean? Probably nothing.
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FROM THE ARCHIVES:  
People We Like. I've got a new photo in The Morning News: the co-owners of Frank White, an unusual coffee shop in my neighborhood. — 07.17.08 Charles Atlas will make a man of you! "Against Atlas' better judgment, I declined performing all of my exercises in the nude." (accompanying shirtless photo of the author taken by me.) — 07.17.08 Cat on a Leash. I am totally buying a leash for Coleman asap. — 06.25.08 The Brooklynites. Great photos of a wide range of people from my favorite borough. (Thanks to Kurt [a talented photographer himself] for passing this on.) — 12.19.07 Killer Boob. My childhood (and current!) friend Sarah talks about her experience with breast cancer on her well written and charming blog. She's an American living in Belgium and happens to be one of the best people I know. — 12.19.07 |
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