It's August and the City Smells Like Garbage

It's August and the City smells like garbage. Well, I can only vouch for the Upper West Side, Upper East Side, Chinatown and Tribeca (took the long way to work today), but I'm pretty sure it holds true for the rest of the island as well. August in the suburbs the nighttime air chirps with the sounds of crickets and cicadas. August in the city the daytime air wafts in heavy plumes of trash, urine and humanity. The subways are the best, and the East Side lines are the best of the best. Descending into the bowels of the earth and each step adds another degree farhenheit and another level of olfactory delight. If 'Crash' symbolized the distance, absence of human contact in Los Angeles, New York should respond with 'Squish,' symbolizing the claustrophobic, forced, daily, human skin to perspired skin contact of the City. Setting: a 6 (or maybe a 2/3) subway car during rush hour. It'll use that skipping around series of perspectives of strangers with nothing in common but their stuckness in the same car that is delayed in the middle of a dark tunnel due to an earlier incident, train trafic ahead of us, and suspicious activity at 42nd street. Their lives will become entwined in that interminable stretch as they dance the paradoxical city dance of avoiding eye contact even while positioned in a full body press.
We will be moving shortly? Not likely.