Why not slip into something more comfortable in my van around the corner?
He cut me off as I started across Broadway above 23rd and said "Could you cross somewhere else? We're shooting here." Sure enough, the tourist island in the middle of the street was packed with TV/movie equipment.
I thought "What? Now I'm supposed to take orders from film crew flunkies?" I had the urge to ask what they were shooting, and if it wasn't up to my standards, march right through the middle of the scene:
"I'm walkin' here! This is my city too, assholes, so get that camera and those goddamn lights outta my face! Cut! I said CUT you motherf*ckers!!" 
But then it occurred to me: It's NOT my city any more, and it won't be until I get rich or... produce my own TV show. So my series proposals follow.
If you know someone who can bankroll them, contact me care of Anitha, the morning-shift lottery lady at Hudson News stand #23 in the Port Authority Bus Terminal; tell her you're looking for "Lucky Larry, with the van."
2 Broke-Ass Girls
Two young women move to NYC to become neighborhood cafe baristas, but discover all the neighborhoods are gone. So they decide to rob the rich instead, and bike around the city communicating via text message like English rioters. (With any luck the show will be funded by the robberies.)
The theme song as they corner and stick up victims: The Lady Of Rage - Afro Puffs; theme song as they ride away, richer: Roxanne Shante - Have a Nice Day.
A competitive reality show. Contestants will be enrolled when they arrive at the Port Authority, tired and penniless. Then the camera crew will follow them as they sink into crime and prostitution, trying to earn enough for a bus ticket back home to Swamplick, Broke Neck, Pickle Bend  or whatever hick town they came from.
The winner gets the bus ticket, a few lines of speed, and a slice of 99 cent pizza for the ride home, The losers, who will wind up in jail, are enrolled in another reality show titled...
...where we'll follow them as they weave their way through the criminal justice system and, every few days, face a panel of skanky incarcerated celebrities -- Russell Brand, Paris Hilton, whoever's available -- which will adjudicate the skankiness of contestants' appearance.
The winner will be whoever manages to be skankiest without falling over the edge into stankiness, and souring the cellblock with the rank odor of sexual desperation.
Winners will be released at the Port Authority with a $20 bill, a $10 NY Lottery ticket, and a $5 Duane Reade gift certificate. Losers will disappear into the bowels of the penal system, where they'll be fodder for a show I've just started brainstorming:
I'm thinking: something about jailhouse moonshine, body modification, and how true love can be found where you least expect it...
 Note how I still make the effort to keep this blog family f*cking friendly!
 Hometown names fabricated to avoid insulting any particular backwater hellhole.