Mr. Dolittle (moniker) was on a self-guided walking tour of NYC, taking an anfractuous route. He had two cowbells stitched on his multicolor jacket and coins in the pocket from foreign travels which jingled and jangled along with the jacket bells aided by his restless fingers in the jacket pockets as he walked. Passersby, fascinated by the multicolor jacket, cowbells, and the jingle-jangles first gave a quizzical look at the man and then smiled for making their day a little brighter and richer. He was not your ordinary everyday Joe but a Ph.D. in street psychology and world traveler.
As he ambled, he stopped at the street vendors along the way and addressed them, ‘’Hey Charlie! I am Joe Blow. Have a bite to spare.’’ The vendors, amused by his sartorial style willingly gave him free of charge food they sold to other people. He stopped at the restaurants to use their bathrooms using his charm and showing off his goofy costume, telling his adventures in unheard-of places and sporting a winning smile. He stopped at the Salvation Army, Dress for Success, and such outfits to get free clothes. He had no problem finding a sleeping place. He carried a rolled-up cushion mat that he could use on any hard surface for a good night’s sleep. He was the quintessential man who could live in NYC with no money on hand. He perfected the art of easy living. He usually walked into a high-rise apartment, held a chitchat about his foreign travels, entertained the doorman with his adventures in far-off lands and persuaded them to let him use the toilet, the laundry room and shower for a laugh and good humour.
He had free entry to enjoy Broadway shows without paying a fee. He showed off his collection of common coins left over from his foreign travels, jingled them in his pocket, told some stories, flashed a smile, entered the theater on the sly in the full view of the complacent usher and chose any empty seat he saw.

He never told anyone of his living in the city for next to nothing.
One day he was in Central Park, enjoying the soft spring breeze and walking amid the flowering plants in the garden. There were a bouquet of poets walking among the flowers, having taken a lunchbreak from their poetry reading sessions in a building near the park. Dr. Dolittle said under his breath, ’These fulgurant petals beat like butterflies in the wind and mesmerize me.’’ One of the poets turned towards him and said, ‘Could you say it again for my colleagues to hear what you just said.’ Dolittle dutifully said softly to the gathered poets, ‘’’These fulgurant petals beat like butterflies in the wind and mesmerize me.’’ Their faces lit up and invited him to join them in the poetry hall. Mr. Dolittle regaled them with his adventures in foreign lands. After the poetry reading was over, they took him to their hotel for a sumptuous dinner and an overnight stay.