My outer-borough New York City neighborhood is served by a commuter train line. I was waiting for the downtown train yesterday when I noticed a tweedy-looking middle-aged woman on the platform, scribbling in a small notebook. I assumed she was writing an agenda or to-do list, but then I saw she was tearing off the pages and sticking them into the frame of a billboard that advertised a real estate auction in suburban Connecticut. I grabbed the pages from the billboard frame as I boarded the train.
The first one read:
3 car garage!!
3 cars x miles/gallon = move to the city
The second:
Where are the people?
They are never home
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