God is in the bean bag.

The street is deserted at 9am on Sunday morning - corner of 9th Street and 6th Avenue. You are dressed all in black, carrying a black bean bag chair. It's a gift for a friend in New Jersey. Waiting for the light to change, hoping the PATH train won't leave you hanging, A woman suddenly stands next to you, and she is also dressed in black but has no bean bag. She has a tremendously huge ass. It is roughly the size of the bean bag, held at a similar level. You are momentarily like mirrored twins. To whom do you turn for witness?