Yesterday I forgot my ipod. I pictured my monotonous day without my personal soundtrack and almost turned around to go get it, but couldn’t find my keys in my humongous bag and I was already late so I sucked it up.

I walked past the dude on the subway platform that I see every day, but instead of asking me for money like I always assumed he did, he tried to sell me percocet. I was caught off guard and laughed. He smiled and winked at me. Is this what I’ve been missing everyday? Not like I want to buy prescription drugs from this guy, but it’s nice to know he’s got his own little business going at the Spring Garden El stop and he’s not just looking for my spare change.

Waiting for the light to change I’m forced to listen to the street-corner-preacher instead of my playlist. He’s not just spitting random nonsense but yelling about how we need to end racism. What would happen if more people listened to Mr. Preacher Man? Maybe nothing, but maybe something.

I found myself noticing more, and getting a little more out of my day. Don’t get me wrong, I will never purposely leave my ipod at home. Sometimes I need a little Diana Ross followed by some Leo Miles to get me through the day; but sometimes it is nice to listen to the city’s soundtrack instead of my own.