I will be GOD DAMNED if I didn't just pass a dude on the sidewalk who looked probably 55, sorta eastern European, bald, mustache, with a vest full of flair. And the one button I was able to make out was a CHER button. Like '70s-ass Cher, with a big yellow Cher logo and a gang of Cher hair. I actually stopped mid-stride and took a second to consider what to do. I didn't have my camera, but I considered turning around and going right up to him to check out all his flair. But I wussed out; he didn't seem a very happy sort, aside from all the whimsical vestwear.
It has just occurred to me that no one has offered me food stamps to have sex with them in about fifteen years.