The Sidewalks of New York

The weather is [mostly] warm; the sky is [often] sunny. This can only mean one thing: the street canvassers have come out of hiding. They are everywhere, and they are coming for you. I will cross the street. I will talk on my phone. Once I was walking through Union Square sobbing. But there is no obstacle too large for the canvasser. They will find you, they will block your path, they will follow you down the street. I have never been physically attacked, though I feel it coming.

And the thing is, I have canvassed. I, of all people, should have sympathy for my fellow soldiers doomed to a life of liberal causes. I should have sympathy, but I don't. My bleeding heart has turned to ice. Common manners no longer apply. It is a matter of survival--one must escape or risk the consequences.