I walked out of a meeting today in NYC with my “boss,” Nicco, and we passed one of those bodega-type corner stores that has, at once, a whole lot of everything and nothing at all. It’s like a flea-market-cum-store. This one had a wall of neckties on the outside, so Nicco stops dead in his tracks and asks the clerk perched on a stool outside his store, “How much are these ties?”. (Nicco, you should note, is a big guy wearing a burgundy shirt, slacks, a beard, a ragged black sport jacket, and–beneath the jacket– a leather vest with tassles.) “Three for ten dollars,” the shopkeepers says. “Oh, mann!” Nicco replies (to me) with wide-eyes, looking for guidance on which ties to select. He encourages me to pick out one of the three ties for myself, because the kind of guy he is, but I think he either lost interest or was offended when I took too long to identify myself with one of the neon or statue-of-liberty.Why are we looking for ties here? Because Nicco has a WEDDING to go to this weekend, and he’s going to wear exactly what he’s wearing right now! Incredible. So, one Freedom tie, one Neon Green tie, and one blackish tie later, all for $10, we’re ready to go… wait –“Excuse me, do you happen to sell socks?” Nicco abandons his roller luggage (embroidered with nicco.org, of course) and his leather briefcase to me in the street and follows the salesman into his store like a dog waiting to be fed.And I stood there laughing out loud, wondering if a photo could have even captured the absurdity of the moment. Nicco, enjoy the wedding. The dude abides.