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A Squirrel Named Mia

You know what it's like when the carnival rolls into town and the carnie people bring a little buzz to the place? That's everyday in Washington Square Park. I get a kick out of it. 

When I passed through on Tuesday evening, I got behind the Squirrel Man. I get him confused with the Pigeon Man, the dude who puts food on his clothes and then lets the pigeons cover his entire body. I got caught once in the path of the pigeons as they flocked to him, and I have a little post traumatic stress disorder over the whole deal. G R O S S.

Back to Squirrel Man. 

I was a few paces behind him. I noticed he'd call out a name, a squirrel would run over to him, collect the nut and run back. He'd call another name. Same deal. Very civilized. And I be damned if each squirrel didn't look different. 

But then there was Mia. He couldn't find her. He called out three or four times. None of the other squirrels were following him. None were asking for seconds. 

He'd called out again. 

Mia popped her little head out of this mound of ground cover, looked over at him, ran over, got her nut, and went back to her business. 

Tuesdays in New York. Free entertainment. Mia's the star of the show. 

All Nighter

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