Humanity Update: . . . Still Nuts

If you've lately convinced yourself that the world is anything but a loosely held together circus of lunatics, please find your way to the Starbucks cafe at the Barnes & Noble in Union Square at your earliest convenience.

Yes, many of the people are studying or talking to friends. But the exceptions are strong. One pair, a balding, scraggly-haired guy in blue jeans and a woman reading a paranoid book about the government, have gotten up and switched tables the last three times that people adjacent to them have left. In the course of about five minutes, total. They seem to be evolutionarily wired to move into freshly unoccupied spaces.

But they are beaten to the crazy-punch bowl by a woman to my left. She is wearing a hoodie and earphones. She looks a bit (just a tiny bit) like Alfre Woodard. She is laughing hysterically with regularity. Like, hand to the mouth, stomp the floor, fight back tears laughing. What is she reading? A guide book to Helsinki. (The guy sharing the table with her -- it's awfully crowded in here -- doesn't seem to mind. He looks as if he wandered in here because OTB closed for the night. He just pulled a vodka bottle out of a plastic grocery bag, surveyed the paltry quarter-inch or so left sloshing around at the bottom, and calmly put it back in the bag with an almost imperceptible look on his face of aw, shucks.)