You didn't have to live in New York City long to get pretty good at ignoring your fellow man. It was a thoroughly practiced maneuver, entirely unconcsious, sidestepping anyone vaguely in your path imploring for your attention. Because there were so many people imploring, and so many of them just made Bobby's chest hurt.
Sometimes they were hard to ignore, though; amongst all those people, there was a good chance of stumbling upon a real character. Piercings all up the bridge of their nose or a tattoo you could mistake for a shirt at first glance or socks with profanities written from the knee to the ankle-- sometimes, you just had to look.
What did green hair she like acid say? "Uh...?" Bobby went, articulate as always, before he could gather himself and smile brightly and admit without a hint of shame, "Sorry, your hair was, I mean. I wasn't listening?"