Having recently read The Portrait of Mrs. Charbuque by Jeffrey Ford, where snowflakes have a role to play, I liked this exchange from overheardnyc:
A mother and daughter catching snowflakes on their tongues.
Mother: I caught one, did you catch one?
Mother: Mine was too small, it tasted tiny.
Daughter: I got one!
Mother: What does it taste like?
–2nd Avenue & 9th Street
Still, my favourite remains this one:
Guy #1: Man, things ain’t been the same since my brother died in WTC.
Guy #2: What? He ain’t dead; he’s in jail, son.
Guy #1: Man, why you gotta–