This morning while walking through Port Authority someone tapped me on the shoulder. Which I ignored, because that is what you do when you're in the realm of crazy people that is the bus terminal. *Tap Tap* again. I turn around. The woman informs me that my dress is on inside out. I sheepishly thank her and run to the restrooms to switch it right side out. I check to make sure I am wearing undergarments and shoes and that there's nothing in my teeth and head out into the madness that is 42nd street and 8th avenue and pray that I 1.) don't get hit by a cab, 2.) don't get shat on by those pigeons on the northwest corner, and 3.) that the "mystery water" than just landed on my shoulder was from an air conditioner...please!