Last night, on the way home from work, I stopped off at Bagels and Co, on 79th street. I bought a garlic bagel to have for breakfast, but then I got hungry and ate it, which this morning has left me scrounging the kitchen for food. I find the last roll in a package that was purchased on Friday, smear on a bit of cream cheese, and devour it.
Heading downstairs a neighbor joins me in the elevator, on the fourth floor, and on the second floor the doors open again but no one gets in.
Walking on Overlook, I see my reflection in a car window and realize I need a haircut. A bright yellow SUV drives by.
On the platform, I see David M. and we both wave hello. Shella, whose last name I don't know, is also here but she either doesn't see me or pretends not to. Irrelevant - she never says hello anyways. Chani E. is on the train when I board, all the way on the other side of the car.
The roll wasn't enough; I'm still hungry with no time to purchase a proper breakfast. Is it sad to be thinking about lunch before even getting to work?
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