Sometimes when I leave the apartment I feel like I just don't know what's wrong with me. Why am I consistently leaving for work later than I would like to?
On 186th street, I walk on the right side of the sidewalk, hugging the building next to me. A woman streams past me on the right, squeezing between me and the building and almost knocking into me. I ask why she couldn't pass me on the other side, where there is plenty of room, and she responds that she “always walks on the right.” For a moment I consider informing her that only cars need drive on the right side of the road and that even if she were, in fact, a car, passing is done on the left, but I decide to let it go. She doesn’t, and after a few more steps she turns around and asks “what, are you always going to tell me what to?” No, I’m not your spectacularly insane boss, your abusive boyfriend, or any other reckless person in your life. “Just don’t run me over,” I say in as calm a voice as I can muster.
Zev S. walks by and, having witnessed the prior exchange of some words, asks what was going on. I recount the story and Zev asks if I realize that the woman is but ten feet ahead, staring unkindly upon us.
At the tunnel in the train stations, I see Estie K. for the second time this week. The train is heard screeching onto the platform and everyone makes a run for the turnstiles. I make it on board and squeeze into a middle seat.
At 59th, I run into Sara S. and tell her that last night I went to Café K. and, since Sara and I frequent there so often together, the waitress was shocked to see me with someone else. We laugh.
Showing posts with label Estie. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Estie. Show all posts
Thursday, April 22
Friday, April 16
Perspective
I head to the basement to throw out the garbage and I run into Antonio, who is talking to a woman. He sees that I’m carrying quite a bit and kindle helps me carry it the rest of the way and sort out the recycling.
I was up cooking late last night, which has been a recipe for exhaustion today. It makes me consider a stop at Dunkin’ Donuts, though I’ve managed to be entirely caffeine free for almost three weeks.
On platform I see Estie K. When the train arrives it’s half empty, and I realize that trains are the opposite of cups. Half empty is the optimistic viewpoint.
I was up cooking late last night, which has been a recipe for exhaustion today. It makes me consider a stop at Dunkin’ Donuts, though I’ve managed to be entirely caffeine free for almost three weeks.
On platform I see Estie K. When the train arrives it’s half empty, and I realize that trains are the opposite of cups. Half empty is the optimistic viewpoint.
Friday, March 19
Flossaholic
Is it OK to floss in public? Because I roasted potatoes this morning, tasted one just before I left, and now there is rosemary wedged between two teeth.
I see Tzivia H. on 186th, and on Overlook a tall Israeli man asks, in Hebrew and into his cellphone, "are you dieting?" I can hear the leash on his poodle dangling as he pauses to let the dog poop and I pass him.
In the station, I can hear the train approach but I am too tired to run for it, and I am the first one onto the platform after the train pulls out. Walking really slowly towards my spot, I am passed by Estie H. and Yehuda B. Neither of them notice me.
I get a seat on the train even though it's crowded, and watch "Up In the Air," on my Blackberry, for most of the ride. At 59th, I bump into Daniel S. We both wave hello and I go back to my movie, starving for some coffee.
I see Tzivia H. on 186th, and on Overlook a tall Israeli man asks, in Hebrew and into his cellphone, "are you dieting?" I can hear the leash on his poodle dangling as he pauses to let the dog poop and I pass him.
In the station, I can hear the train approach but I am too tired to run for it, and I am the first one onto the platform after the train pulls out. Walking really slowly towards my spot, I am passed by Estie H. and Yehuda B. Neither of them notice me.
I get a seat on the train even though it's crowded, and watch "Up In the Air," on my Blackberry, for most of the ride. At 59th, I bump into Daniel S. We both wave hello and I go back to my movie, starving for some coffee.
Thursday, December 24
T'Was The Night Before
It's officially very cold outside. I walk to the train station and see Mrs. H. near the entrance, grabbing a copy of AM New York. Ariel F. is also at the entrance, just inside, speaking on her cell phone.
Past the tunnel Estie T. is buying a metrocard. As I walk through the turnstile, Rebecca G. walks out and says hello. She works at the nearby Yeshiva University.
On the platform, right at the bottom of the stairs, I see Sara S. She smiles. It's her birthday today, and Sara looks like she is dressed to celebrate. A black shirt, gray skirt, and sexy red scarf are immediately noticeable. Her boots are black, with a furry trim at the top.
Someone is playing classical music further up on the platform, but Sara has been listening to "All Star" on her iPod. We ride the train together, discussing everything from the trips to weddings to the meaning of life.
We switch to the D train at 59th and then get off at Rockefeller. I walk to Milk and Honey to get a bagel, and on the corner of 5th I run into one of my neighbors. I don't say hello, since I don't really know her, then make my way to Starbucks and finally to the office, the last day before the long weekend.
Past the tunnel Estie T. is buying a metrocard. As I walk through the turnstile, Rebecca G. walks out and says hello. She works at the nearby Yeshiva University.
On the platform, right at the bottom of the stairs, I see Sara S. She smiles. It's her birthday today, and Sara looks like she is dressed to celebrate. A black shirt, gray skirt, and sexy red scarf are immediately noticeable. Her boots are black, with a furry trim at the top.
Someone is playing classical music further up on the platform, but Sara has been listening to "All Star" on her iPod. We ride the train together, discussing everything from the trips to weddings to the meaning of life.
We switch to the D train at 59th and then get off at Rockefeller. I walk to Milk and Honey to get a bagel, and on the corner of 5th I run into one of my neighbors. I don't say hello, since I don't really know her, then make my way to Starbucks and finally to the office, the last day before the long weekend.
Monday, November 16
Seen and Unseen
Being late, I haven't checked the weather, and once outside its clear I'm dressed for a cooler climate. Adding further insult are the shoes I'm wearing, which I dug up last night during an end-of-decade closet cleanup. The pair fits, technically, but with orthotics inside they still need a bit of stretching and I'm feeling the pain.
On the way to drop off my laundry and right outside the local synagogue, I bump into Avi T. and he waves. I can't wave back, on account of all the clothes I'm carrying, but I smile and he gets it. Returning from the laundromat I see Simone G. at the corner of 187th and Broadway. We say hello.
Rabbi M. is exiting the synagogue along with a few others but he doesn't see. Neither does Adam F. who is up ahead at the corner of 186th and Bennett. On Overlook, I see Estie H. as she enters the station.
On the train, I sit in the back corner to read my magazine. Next two me, two Spanish speaking middle aged women are chatting loudly. Another woman, a few seats away, is sitting with her back upright, in perfect posture, reading AM New York. Her hair, a short bob cut, is styled with a large headband across the top; a coarse overcoat reaches almost to the knees of her faded jeans. Below, she has red sneakers with a black pattern and her left ring finger sports a shiny wedding band. At 59th, she is gone. I get off too, a sigh of grief when I look at my watch and decide there is no time to stop for caffeine.
On the way to drop off my laundry and right outside the local synagogue, I bump into Avi T. and he waves. I can't wave back, on account of all the clothes I'm carrying, but I smile and he gets it. Returning from the laundromat I see Simone G. at the corner of 187th and Broadway. We say hello.
Rabbi M. is exiting the synagogue along with a few others but he doesn't see. Neither does Adam F. who is up ahead at the corner of 186th and Bennett. On Overlook, I see Estie H. as she enters the station.
On the train, I sit in the back corner to read my magazine. Next two me, two Spanish speaking middle aged women are chatting loudly. Another woman, a few seats away, is sitting with her back upright, in perfect posture, reading AM New York. Her hair, a short bob cut, is styled with a large headband across the top; a coarse overcoat reaches almost to the knees of her faded jeans. Below, she has red sneakers with a black pattern and her left ring finger sports a shiny wedding band. At 59th, she is gone. I get off too, a sigh of grief when I look at my watch and decide there is no time to stop for caffeine.
Friday, September 11
Almost the Weekend
This entire week, I've been putting off the front closet. Inside are all my coats and jackets and once the door is open it will really mark the end of summer. It must be the rain that slides me over the edge and I finally give in, grab the lightest thing I can find, and head out.
The jacket feels foreign on my body. Is it too tight? Have I gained weight since last year? Anyways, it is nice to have the extra pockets and I slip my headphones inside. I leave my apartment and there is a sign on the elevator saying it is out of order.
It takes a few minutes to get down the stairs and over to the station. In the tunnel I run into Miriam L. She makes a comment about running into me again, but I haven't seen her since last weekend, so she must have me mistaken with someone else. She runs into the elevator to get to Fort Wash and move her car, and as soon as she is gone I remember that I did, in fact, run into her just the other night.
On the platform, I find a seat on one of the benches and wait patiently for the next train. Estie H. whizzes past me but doesn't say hello or wave; I can't tell if she saw me. Sometimes I wonder if she even knows who I am, but then again I spend a lot of time wondering if I myself know who I am.
I get off at 59th, and lean up against a pillar to wait for the next train. Miriam C. walks right by me and I call out to her. I ask where she is coming from and she says she has just gotten off the A but was at the back of the train and is now walking up towards the front of the platform. I tell her I was on the same train but nearer to the middle. Then she asks me if it’s raining outside. I look at her blankly, till she realizes her mistake. That's going in my blog, I say.
The jacket feels foreign on my body. Is it too tight? Have I gained weight since last year? Anyways, it is nice to have the extra pockets and I slip my headphones inside. I leave my apartment and there is a sign on the elevator saying it is out of order.
It takes a few minutes to get down the stairs and over to the station. In the tunnel I run into Miriam L. She makes a comment about running into me again, but I haven't seen her since last weekend, so she must have me mistaken with someone else. She runs into the elevator to get to Fort Wash and move her car, and as soon as she is gone I remember that I did, in fact, run into her just the other night.
On the platform, I find a seat on one of the benches and wait patiently for the next train. Estie H. whizzes past me but doesn't say hello or wave; I can't tell if she saw me. Sometimes I wonder if she even knows who I am, but then again I spend a lot of time wondering if I myself know who I am.
I get off at 59th, and lean up against a pillar to wait for the next train. Miriam C. walks right by me and I call out to her. I ask where she is coming from and she says she has just gotten off the A but was at the back of the train and is now walking up towards the front of the platform. I tell her I was on the same train but nearer to the middle. Then she asks me if it’s raining outside. I look at her blankly, till she realizes her mistake. That's going in my blog, I say.
Tuesday, August 25
Red
I’m almost out of clean clothes, which is not a good thing considering I've reverted to my "late every day" schedule. I drop my laundry at the Laundromat, and the woman asks about delivery, to which I concede and then head back down Broadway. Behind me I catch the glimpse of a young woman in light colored shorts and a gray t-shirt. Her legs are long, and her hair is an intriguing, fiery red. I can't tell if it is natural or not but I am apprehensive to turn around and check. I do it anyway, sheepishly trying to look poised when I do, but it turns out she is too far away and the mystery persists. I slow my pace, then try again. Up ahead, near Key Food, I spot Avi Z. all dressed up for work. I can’t remember ever seeing him in anything but casual, except in synagogue.
Back on Bennett, I am almost entirely sure that is Ayala S. walking ahead in the distance, her back to me. Near the subway station, I spot Estie H. She is wearing a long black skirt and dark long sleeve shirt. I want to say hello but she is ahead of me and once inside she takes the upper catwalk above the platform. Once upon a time, I would frequently use the catwalk in the mornings, to avoid running into people. This was better than the risk of spending the entire commute forced to talk with some socially awkward neighbor I barely know. I don’t think she has even seen me, but for a moment I wonder if she is avoiding me on the catwalk.
On the platform, I am convinced I see Lisa K. until I am close enough to realize the person in question looks nothing like her. I do see Aliza B. who waves and asks how I’m doing. We board the train and there are no seats, but at least I get the best stand in the house – right next to the connecting doors at the end of the car. At 175th, Aliza gets a seat, not too far from where I’m standing and one stop later, I am lucky to get a seat of my own as well.
Back on Bennett, I am almost entirely sure that is Ayala S. walking ahead in the distance, her back to me. Near the subway station, I spot Estie H. She is wearing a long black skirt and dark long sleeve shirt. I want to say hello but she is ahead of me and once inside she takes the upper catwalk above the platform. Once upon a time, I would frequently use the catwalk in the mornings, to avoid running into people. This was better than the risk of spending the entire commute forced to talk with some socially awkward neighbor I barely know. I don’t think she has even seen me, but for a moment I wonder if she is avoiding me on the catwalk.
On the platform, I am convinced I see Lisa K. until I am close enough to realize the person in question looks nothing like her. I do see Aliza B. who waves and asks how I’m doing. We board the train and there are no seats, but at least I get the best stand in the house – right next to the connecting doors at the end of the car. At 175th, Aliza gets a seat, not too far from where I’m standing and one stop later, I am lucky to get a seat of my own as well.
Wednesday, August 19
Back to Work
It barely 7 A.M. when I leave my apartment but I've been up for hours thanks to jetlag. I'm heading back to work already and not quite as refreshed as I should be following vacation. The temperature is hot and the air feels humid, particularly after having spent two weeks in what is essentially a desert. There is hardly anyone on the street yet.
I wonder if my metrocard has expired. It hasn't. I'd expect more people on the platform, even at this hour, since the 1 train is not running after the ceiling collapsed at the 181st street station. I see Marissa W. but she is engrossed in something or other so I just walk by.
At my spot I see Estie R. sitting on a bench, with a new, tiny nose ring that looks great on her. She has been away for some time, in Africa and on then on the West Coast, but I don't get to hear much about the trip or what she did there. Instead we spend most of the time discussing a new building on the Upper West Side that she's planning to move in to. She gets off at 125th and I continue on to 59th, completely unprepared to face the day ahead.
I wonder if my metrocard has expired. It hasn't. I'd expect more people on the platform, even at this hour, since the 1 train is not running after the ceiling collapsed at the 181st street station. I see Marissa W. but she is engrossed in something or other so I just walk by.
At my spot I see Estie R. sitting on a bench, with a new, tiny nose ring that looks great on her. She has been away for some time, in Africa and on then on the West Coast, but I don't get to hear much about the trip or what she did there. Instead we spend most of the time discussing a new building on the Upper West Side that she's planning to move in to. She gets off at 125th and I continue on to 59th, completely unprepared to face the day ahead.
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