My brother’s freshman year in college, he took the train into the city and went to South Street with his roommate. They spent a great afternoon, and all of their money, before getting back to the station and realizing that they had to buy a return ticket. So they put down a baseball cap and started doing a capella techno until they had the three or four dollars for the fare. They decided the band name was “TBA and the Special Guests.” Lesson learned: busking sucks.
Item two: although my writing and editing is determined largely by other people’s constraints, I am not a turd polisher. At least, not as much as someone who gets paid $20 to ghetto-ify the dialogue in someone else’s novel.