Lonely socks, I would find, are not only a Brooklyn phenomenon:
This lonely sock was discovered on the Marble Hill Metro North platform. We’ve moved into a second borough.
This sock, interestingly, was a mere few feet from this sock:
Sadly, I didn’t take a picture of the proximity of these two socks. Doing so would have allowed us to decide if there were, in fact, perpetually lonely and thereby horribly sad socks, or if these two socks were of the same pair and working themselves back together (like Will and Charlize, and I won’t say anything else so I’m not spoiling anything, suckas) and thereby a touching story of the indomitable human (or sock) spirit. Here is another view of one of our heroes:
Something about this last picture is particularly sad to me–this sock feels almost like a hobo, not in the sense that the word is used at Overheard In New York (although I love that site, the use of “Hobo” to describe a homeless person always seems a little cold and, more importantly, inaccurate), but in the historical sense. This sock is ready to ride the rails–next stop, who knows where? (I mean, I know where, because I take Metro North all the time, but I’m not telling you.)