Many years ago, a friend of mine told me of how he, while going home following a night of heavy drinking, was mugged at the corner of 42nd Street and 7th Avenue. After this friend was held up at knifepoint, the suspect turned to run away with his misbegotten bounty. My friend, with a boozy bravado, screamed “Oh great, you're not gonna leave me with any money to get home?” Without missing a beat, the mugger stopped long enough to throw on the ground, the exact subway fare he needed get home.
The old “FORTY-DEUCE” may have been dirty and dangerous, but it still had a heart.
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