I leave my apartment and realize that after a relatively good streak, I'm late to work again. It's OK, I think they kind of expect it and I'm usually the last person to leave anyways.
There is a bit of a tumult getting out of my building, with a three way collision at the door. Each of us is attempting to hold the door open another and inevitably there us a bit of confusion. "Teamwork," one neighbor shouts as we all finally get through.
I call my sister on the way to the station and she tells me how they've just hired someone new in the English department at the school where she works, and the new teacher happens to be a friend of mine. We laugh at the story and comment about how small a world it is.
Aliza A. joins me on Overlook Terrace and walks silently next to me while I say goodbye to my sister. We chat for a bit, till I get to the train and she gets into a Yeshiva University van that will take her across the Heights to her office.
Sitting across from me on the train is Kareem Abdul-Jabbar. Not the real one, of course, but a perfect lookalike, minus a few inches and about 20 years younger. I don't think I look like anyone famous, although a random guy at Connelly’s once asked if I was related to Andre Agassi. Maybe that comes with the territory of a shaved head. Agassi may be better looking than me, and he may be in better shape than me, but I have a feeling that I can cream him when it comes to Wii Tennis.
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