TGIF

Fridays, for the working class, are simply paradoxical. Just hours away from the weekend, and yet the previous days rest so heavily that proper function becomes a rare commodity. Coupled with lack of sleep and grim weather, there is little need to speak to anyone before 10 AM, yet just steps outside my apartment I'm already greeted by my first hello. It's Ezra F. and he's most likely heading back from the morning services. He's a nice chap but I'm glad he keeps his pace and doesn't stick around for the long haul.

Across the way Aliza B. is leaving her building. I see her often and a week or two of consecutive Aliza-spotting is not unheard of. She once baked delicious brownies with a coffee topping which I remember to this day.

Turn to Overlook Terrace and there is Adi G. giving Yosefa S. another lesson in bicycling. I am impressed with Yosefa's persistence and Adi's patience, though from the looks of it I still think Adi would be safer if she too were wearing a helmet. I chat with them a bit, and Yosefa reminds me she is learning to bike so she can get around Amsterdam when she goes next month with some friends. I am annoyed because I was supposed to go on that trip but the dates changed on me.

Getting into the station there is a tall thin woman with painted eyebrows, wearing a green tanktop and loose jeans. She is talking to the newspaper salesman and I overhear her saying she is from San Fransico, which for some reason elicits from him the response of "badda bing badda boom" accompanied by a grunt. What have I been missing in San Fransisco? Is there something I should know about? Why haven't I been to San Fransisco?

On the platform Aliza is talking to a couple. I recognize them from synagogue, and I've met the guy a few times but his name escapes me today. In the distance I recognize someone else who I've met before. She is a friend of my friend Anna and I am always stricken by how much taller she is than most of the other Jewish women I know. I can't remember her name either and I wonder if its part of Friday syndrome.

I'm still waiting for the train when the Frisco chick passes me by. I see now that her eyes are glassy and she is twitching oddly as she hums a tune. Her badda bing has already fallen under a greater influence but I am not stirred. Judge no one on Friday mornings.

Starting Out

Inspired mostly by friend Rebecca's new blog "What Rebecca Ate For Lunch Today," I've decided to give this thing a go. I won't lie, it's going to be brutally honest. No holds barred, so if you see me in the morning and steer clear I'll understand. As an alternative, though, please consider asking me to photograph those sexy new boots and show them to the world.

It's 9:00 AM or so, I'm running late and Lily Allen is playing on my Blackberry as I walk to the A. On my left, across the street, I see Adi G. teaching Yosefa S. how to ride a bicycle. It's odd behavior so early in the morning. Only one of them is wearing a helmet and watching them I wonder if that's intelligent. I don't say hi.

Into the station, through the turnstile, and there is Michal B. What's really bizarre is that she's just gotten off the uptown train. I'm sorry to startle her when I run up behind and ask, but I just have to. Turns out she's just back to town and is heading in from the airport. I wonder how she can travel so lightly and wish her a good day, then wander down the steps.

Esther B. is near the bottom of the stairs, at the back of the station, but I need to head towards the front and don't want to double back. Besides, "It's Not Fair" has just started and I hate to interrupt before the line about the wet patch.

There's no one I recognize in the train car. Next to me is a chubby Latina with large pimples and giant earrings to match. On the other side is a 30-something Asian man and immediately I notice that he has more hair than me, despite his thumb ring. Meanwhile, a large special-needs teen is kissing his father much too erotically to keep the rest of us relaxed. A short woman across the way gives me the nod that says "yes, I'm uncomfortable too."

Down to 59th and on the platform I see Benny S. and wave to him. He's the newest member of my new Friday night group. Tzivia H. is here too but she's either completely absorbed by the molecular structure of train-track alloy or is just avoiding eye contact. I wizz by and think about her unique ability to instantly calculate the square root of just about any number shy of an octillion (10²⁷⁾.

There's more, though the rest is no longer the trip to work. I meet Sara S. for lunch and on the way home Zehava K. is with me for most of the ride. We chat about our upcoming trip to Chicago and getting off we see Yehuda B. who is rushing so he can go biking. Yosef W. whirls by and says hello as the three of us make our way towards Bennett.