An Audience With The Pope (of Trash)

New York has more to offer culturally than almost any other city in the world.  From museums, opera and Broadway to subway performers and the Naked Cowboy, there's entertainment for every taste and socioeconomic level, which is how I found myself in Bryant Park today on my lunch hour listening to John Waters, director of chicken fucking, toe sucking, dog shit eating sleazefests like Pink Flamingos, Female Trouble and my all time favorite Serial Mom dishing about his adventures hitchhiking across the country and the assorted oddities he encountered along the way.  Meeting John Waters in person is like seeing a unicorn, a pixie or a double rainbow.  It's like finding a beautiful black rose speckled with glitter and cheap rhinestones.  It's like magic for your eyes, making you forget how many calories are in that chicken caesar wrap you ate because you weren't sure how long he would grace you with his presence and you only have an hour for lunch.