Eastbound 4, 3:10 PM

Two middle-aged men, who are apparently acquaintances, are making conversation in the back of the bus. One of them takes a drink from a bottle of pop.

Middle-aged man #1: This tastes just like that orange ice cream we used to have back in the day–you know, with the cream in the middle? [Pause] “Want some?”

MAM #2: “No thanks, man.”

MAM #1: “Come on–have a taste! I don’t have any germs. Got a little cancer, but no germs.”

A third man, 10-15 years younger, gets on and joins the conversation. As the bus passes the new city hall, he gestures toward the building.

Young man: “I heard they have a misdemeanor jail up there.

MAM #1 (shrugging): “Jail’s jail.”

YM, gesturing toward the county jail: “I’d rather be in a misdemeanor jail than in there. I was in there for three weeks for a DV… My cellie had killed two people. I was like, ‘I don’t belong in this joint. We were just arguing!'”