Imagine walking near the Port Authority Bus Terminal on your way to work one mid-December morning and having some creature grab your briefcase. Not hard enough to take it away from you, but just hard enough to rub it up against his crotch while he sings "Jingle Bells" to you.
You can't make that sh!t up.
I once "fell asleep" on the 4-5-6 line in Brooklyn after partying all night, and I woke in Harlem (125th street). No one touched me.