The following advertisements were selected at random from the January 9, 1992 issue of the New York Daily News classified section.
For Sale: lightly used Moe Ginsburg suit. Color: Hazel. Size: 40 short. Will include shirt, tie, overcoat and scarf for full ensemble. Retail price $350.00, will accept $8.00 cash. Please double my money on a bad investment. 555-2833.
Free item: surplus train equipment, orange high density polyethylene. Full disclosure: many unspeakable things have undoubtedly been done on and to this two passenger seat over its years of service, but the Transit Authority cannot in good conscience continue to allow fare-paying customers to unwittingly come into contact with this tainted bench. Despite yesterday's best efforts our maintenance crews have not been able to remove the plastic-fused body hair or pungent sweat aroma, but pursuant to Mayor Dinkins' recycling initiative we offer this item to the first interested party to pick it up from the Coney Island Yard, 2556 McDonald Ave.
Personals: you sat alone on the train, a puffball stocking cap above your smiling face. Reminiscent of a Nebraska farmboy on his first trip to the city, you continued to smile as a lanky doofus with hair like the bride of Frankenstein tried to squeeze in next to your ample girth. The rest of the day I wished I was him so as to come that close to you and your scent, which I imagine is best described as a cologne designed by Bob Evans. Call me 555-7287.
For Sale: lightly used Moe Ginsburg suit. Color: Hazel. Size: 40 short. Will include shirt, tie, overcoat and scarf for full ensemble. Retail price $350.00, will accept $8.00 cash. Please double my money on a bad investment. 555-2833.
Free item: surplus train equipment, orange high density polyethylene. Full disclosure: many unspeakable things have undoubtedly been done on and to this two passenger seat over its years of service, but the Transit Authority cannot in good conscience continue to allow fare-paying customers to unwittingly come into contact with this tainted bench. Despite yesterday's best efforts our maintenance crews have not been able to remove the plastic-fused body hair or pungent sweat aroma, but pursuant to Mayor Dinkins' recycling initiative we offer this item to the first interested party to pick it up from the Coney Island Yard, 2556 McDonald Ave.
Personals: you sat alone on the train, a puffball stocking cap above your smiling face. Reminiscent of a Nebraska farmboy on his first trip to the city, you continued to smile as a lanky doofus with hair like the bride of Frankenstein tried to squeeze in next to your ample girth. The rest of the day I wished I was him so as to come that close to you and your scent, which I imagine is best described as a cologne designed by Bob Evans. Call me 555-7287.