Diarrhea of the Homeless Mouth

On my way home from Washington Heights, I had the pleasure of riding the subway with a crazy homeless guy who likes to hear his own voice. Keith, a producer for musicals at the theatre I performed at, and I were on the subway car that houses the subway conductor's booth. A Black MTA employee sat in our car waiting for a conductor to show up so that he (and all of the rest of us) could go home. Soon, a White MTA employee walked on the train and starts up a conversation with the Black employee and all you hear in the background from the homeless guy is this:

Look! It is a White MTA employee. I thought they only hired Colored people to work for the MTA. ......look, it's a White MTA employee. I thought they only hired stupid Colored people to work for the MTA. I thought they only hired stupid Colored people to work for the MTA. A White MTA employee! I thought they only hired stupid Colored people to work for the MTA!!!

Seconds later, he was asleep. Keith and I start to discuss his job as a swim instructor when I said something like, "The adults that can't swim should pray or meditate about any fears they have had." He wakes up.

Gentlemen! There is no God! Gentlemen! There is no God. Gentlemen!!! There is no fucking God! There is NO God! Evolution is the reason for everything. There is no God.

So we did what any New Yorker does when a crazy homeless person speaks to you. We spoke in run-on sentences as to avoid any gap in conversation, conveying that we can't hear what he's saying.