So, first off, gotta use this space to do a little I-Told-You-So to my man Esposito over our fantasy baseball match up. It’d be mean to say my team was whuppin’ his team’s butt… but it wouldn’t be a lie.
See, whereas Esposito believes in hunches, instincts, and picking the dude whose baseball card lands face up, I am a man of science. I am a man of facts, details, and penetrating investigation. And I’m not just talking about skimming RBIs, ERAs, and all the usual jazz – I take it outside the batter’s box. I’m looking up which player was out partying the night before, which guy just had a kid and can’t get any sleep, and which dude has a contract negotiation coming up and needs to bring the fire.
Anyhow, just another example of how Esposito and I have our different methodology about the world. The man is good police and a great partner. When it comes to the job, there’s nobody I’d rather be working alongside and have watching my back. But when it comes to the ways of the world – y’know, Thai food vs. Indian, brunettes vs. blondes, 360 vs. PS3? We’re on totally different wavelengths.
Take the other day. While out and about on a case, we got into a convo about a classic New York practice: the art of scoring roadkill. For those who don’t live in our fair city, I’ll break it down for you. Basically, when you’re done with your old stuff here, you leave it out on the street for those less fortunate. Y’know, students, artists, former hedge fund managers. Like I told Esposito, it’s trickle down economics at its finest. A citywide version of the Leave a Penny, Take a Penny tray.
But my partner doesn’t get it, of course – Esposito’s a retail guy all the way. I tried to explain the fine art of the deal to him, but guy just stared at me like I was speaking Farsi. We’re a classic case of the quick fix vs. the savvy consumer. He figures why hunt for a cheap copy of The Best Of CCR when you can snag it for twenty bucks across the street? Why walk a couple blocks to the good hotdog place when we can grab one from the stand out front?
Me, I’m all about sidewalk book sales, vintage t-shirts, and secondhand cars. Hell, the couch in my apartment, the one where Esposito likes to chillwhen I’m kicking his ass at Madden? That’s a refugee from 54th and Lex. Dude freaked out when I told him that. Not like he had a problem crashing on it all those times before.
Point is, New Yorkers have been recycling way before little blue boxes and all that. It’s not like, we’re dumpster diving here. It’s just a way of passing along things to someone who needs it. The city helping those who help themselves.
In fact, that reminds me. On my way home from work tonight I'm gonna do a little roadkill tour, see if there are any coffee tables left out and needing a new home. Esposito accidentally put a huge crack in mine last Madden tournament – I think he’d appreciate me picking up a new one. Well, my kind of “new,” that is...