Undressed2002
The subway car, hurtling under the city,reeked of stale urine and simmering frustration. A Homeless man, his face obscured by a grimy Yankees cap, snored loudly, his body sprawled across two seats. Brooke-lynn's, headphones blasting, a mixture of disgust and weary resignation etched on her face. Her music, a pulsating bassline, leaked from her headphones, a defiant soundtrack to the morning commute.
Narrator (Brooke-lynn's voiceover): New York City. The city where dreams are made... and promptly shat upon. Usually by a guy who smells like he bathes in terrible bodega coffee.
Brooke-lynn rolls her eyes, a gesture honed to perfection after years of navigating the city's absurdities.
Narrator (Brooke-lynn's voiceover): And where self-respect? Yeah, that's checked at the door of some sticky-floored Lower East Side club, right next to your dignity.