On the subway a woman in an expensive-looking suit is calling New York the city of "great wealth" and is shifting her Dolce and Gabbana purse onto her other arm so she can better grasp the subway pole. Two feet away a homeless man is scratching his bare arms compulsively with one hand as he grasps a paper cup in the other. This is how it works: the homeless are not really people, but rather part of the scenery, a decoration on the wall. This homeless man does not live in a rent-controlled apartment on the Upper West Side. He lives in a cardboard box in Hell's Kitchen, he lives in Grand Central Station's bathroom, he lives in Port Authority. This city of "great wealth," it exists in her mind. An employee in Merill Lynch's cafeteria would have to work 3,512 years to make the same salary as one of the company's top brokers. What do you do with a $900,000 severance package? You take a trip to Acapulco, St. Tropez. You get a weekly manicure, pedicure, facial and massage. You find more and more reasons to spend money, discover more and more essentials that you need. You walk past the homeless guy and pretend you left your wallet at home.