My New Jersey Transit train pulls into Penn Station. Two tracks over, the Acella engine sits on the track, like a giant python calmly eying us commuters, as if we were breakfast, as we wait in line on the platform for our turn on the escalator. Out on Seventh Avenue, a beggar sits holding a sign made from a corrugated cardboard box flap that reads: “Need money for crack.”

At 8:30 break, I head over to Bryant Park, where the Beach Boys – or at least two of the original band – are playing for “Good Morning America”. I get there as they are finishing “It's Okay”. A crowd of about 300 are there, along with a video camera on a very long boom that sweeps over the assembly for a crowd shot. Diane Sawyer and Robin Roberts come out after the number, and they all wait to come out of commercial. Short interview, and then the band swings into “ Kokomo.” After the first verse, it’s time to get back to work.

Second morning break, I walk down to the northwest corner of 34th Street and 7th Avenue, across from the Long Island Railroad entrance to Penn Station. This is a favorite spot for tourists to take pictures of each other with the Empire State Building in the background. A family from some other country wants me to take their picture. Their English is very limited.

“You take photo, please?”

“Absolutely,” I tell them. I take their camera and point it at them.

“Say, ‘Cheese!’” I command.

“Say cheese!” they chorus. I snap the shutter and hand it back. The father consults his English dictionary and asks me, “Homo sapiens, please tell what is coffee granite distance and direction?”

“Coffee granite?” We stare at each other in mutual confusion. He mimics eating from a plate.

“Coffee… coffee… A café?” I guess. He nods. Then he starts to play air guitar.

“Guitar? Granite? Oh! You want the Hard Rock Café! A famous and expensive tourist trap!” He eagerly nods in agreement, and I give him directions to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. The museum will be cheaper, and a lot more interesting.

Across the street, tourist buses load and disgorge passengers with regularity. I always wave at these buses when they roll down 7th Avenue, and pretend to be a celebrity. It fools a lot more people than you’d think. People nudge their seat-mates as if to say, “Look! There’s what’s-his-name, from that TV show about those people! You know the one I mean.”

Afternoon break, I’m out on 7th again, people-watching. The Oscar Mayer Weiner Wagon is parked in front of our building, probably having some business with the internet media company inside. One empty space behind it, a Mister Softee van has parked.

On the corner, a young woman is handing out coupons to a new Au Bon Pain, while her accomplice – dressed in an Au Bon Pain Coffee Cup suit – dances around and poses for pictures with tourists. Unfortunately, he dances too close to the “Cosi” coffee shop. The manager steps out and tells the Au Bon Pain Coffee Cup to “Amscray!” The cup keeps dancing and the angry manager goes back in. Suddenly, a guy in a Cinnamon Bun suit rushes out of the Cosi and shoves the Au Bon Pain Coffee Cup.

A food fight has erupted. Out of a Starbucks down the block, another guy – this time in a Latte Coffee Cup suit – runs out and tries to break it up, but Cinnamon Bun pushes him into the side of the parked “Mister Softee” ice cream van. A guy in an Ice Cream Cone suit slams out the side door and jumps on the back of Cinnamon Bun.

The ice cream van - its parking brake released by the shove - rolls six feet and crashes into the back of the Oscar Mayer Weiner Wagon. A lady in a Hot Dog suit gets out of the passenger seat and darts up the side walk towards the fight. She gives Ice Cream Cone a clout in the head. Ice Cream Cone stumbles into a guy in a Red Lobster suit, who’s passing out coupons. Released, Cinnamon Bun pins Ice Cream Cone’s arms behind his back while Oscar Mayer Weiner works him over. Red Lobster starts towards Oscar Mayer Weiner.

Meanwhile, Starbucks Latte Cup and Au Bon Pain Coffee Cup are bumping chests and trying to punch each other. Due to the cylindrical physicality of their suits, they must pirouette on their toes in order to swing their arms.

When Red Lobster grabs Oscar Mayer Weiner in its six arms, Ice Cream Cone breaks free and begins kicking Cinnamon Bun. Starbucks Latte Cup takes a swing at Au Bon Pain, misses, and slugs Oscar Mayer Weiner. Starbucks Latte Cup now has Au Bon Pain Coffee Cup in a headlock and is giving him noogies. All are staying in character and not saying a word.

Cinnamon Bun gets Ice Cream Cone into a half nelson. Red Lobster begins to choke Cinnamon Bun with both its claws. Oscar Mayer Weiner recovers from the punch, grabs the lower rim of the Starbucks Latte Cup, and yanks up quickly, giving Starbucks a painful wedgie.

Oscar Mayer Weiner is twisting the arm of Au Bon Pain Coffee Cup. Starbucks Latte Cup is down for the count. Finally, a cop car pulls up and two officers jump out and break it up. They are about to put everyone in handcuffs when they notice a woman walking down the street dressed in a Dunkin Donut doughnut suit. They whoop! - and take off after her.

The Cups, the Cone, the Weiner, the Bun, and the Lobster stand huffing and puffing, out of breath. Some guy walks by in a chicken suit, giving out flyers for KFC. He yells to Ice Cream Cone, “Hey! Mister Softee! Need some Viagra?” Ice Cream Cone runs up and head-butts this doofus in the stomach. He falls, and his fliers fly in the air, like giant confetti. He gets up and runs away. He’s chicken.

The food suits decide to form a gang. They call themselves “Hell’s Kitchen”. Last seen, they are all headed up 37th street.

I look at my watch; time to get back to work.