My one-day boycott of the NY Times ended with morning after I forgot my book. I had nothing to read on the subway. $2 for the Times was better than staring at my fellow passengers. Their dreary Friday expressions a mirror of my own end of the week exhaustion.
I scanned the news with disinterest. Troops at risk in Afghanistan. Big money spreading its influence over the November election. Job losses. Home foreclosures. A full deck of stacked cards against the masses.
Reaching the editorial section I stuffed the Times in my briefcase.
The opinions of their writers could wait until my ride home.
I’ll be in the better mood tomorrow.
Especially since I can steal my landlord’s New York Times for my bacon and eggs breakfast at the Academy Diner on Lafayette.
For free the New York Times is still worth on which the paper it’s printed, although I wouldn’t wrap fish in it.