Even without Jetlag, I can sometimes leave the apartment early. I'm excited to get to work on time, not because I love work so much but because the sooner I get there the sooner I'll leave and the sooner my weekend will start.
On 186th I spot Sara K. going into her building. We wave and I continue on, seeing Ezra F. from across the street when I reach Overlook.
A bald cop holds the door open for me at the station. On the platform I run into Josh and Malka S. I'd normally stop and chat with Josh for a while (he is one of my favorite fellow techies and an old time friend) but I don't want to interrupt their conversation.
The train is crowded and I'm standing shoulder to shoulder with a few people, including a pregnant woman of about my height. She is wearing a gray maternity size t-shirt, black pants, and flat shoes. Her fingers are chunky. Some nearby offers their seat to the pregnant woman but she declines.
I switch trains at 59th and get off at Rockefeller. Exiting the station, on my way to get some breakfast, I unexpectedly run into Aliza B. She says hi and asks how I'm doing and we chat for a brief moment before she turns off onto 46th street and I continue on my way.
Showing posts with label Ezra. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ezra. Show all posts
Friday, June 11
Thursday, June 3
Bump
I’m carrying a large shopping bag today, with an ergonomic Microsoft keyboard which I needed at the office but had accidentally shipped to my apartment instead. As I walk outside the building I run into Avi T. and we say good morning to each other. On the corner of 186th and Bennett, I also see Ezra F. We say hello. Near the entrance to the station I see Steven S. and wave to him too.
The station is scorching and everyone around me seems to have broken sweat, including the teenage girls with a miniscule denim skirt. Sitting next to me, her hair is in pigtails and she is working on a report about World War I. To my right several people are playing games or emailing on their phones. A girl with very large feet walks by.
On the train, I want to watch a movie I’ve downloaded to my Blackberry but the file is corrupt and it won't play, so I listen to music instead. At 59th The B is across the platform so I stride across. Some people run and one woman wallops into me. I can't hear what she says afterwards, because my music is on too loud, but at first I assume she has apologized, until I look at her expression. I think she might have been telling me I should watch out.
The station is scorching and everyone around me seems to have broken sweat, including the teenage girls with a miniscule denim skirt. Sitting next to me, her hair is in pigtails and she is working on a report about World War I. To my right several people are playing games or emailing on their phones. A girl with very large feet walks by.
On the train, I want to watch a movie I’ve downloaded to my Blackberry but the file is corrupt and it won't play, so I listen to music instead. At 59th The B is across the platform so I stride across. Some people run and one woman wallops into me. I can't hear what she says afterwards, because my music is on too loud, but at first I assume she has apologized, until I look at her expression. I think she might have been telling me I should watch out.
Thursday, May 27
Taxi, Please
I flossed too hard and now my tooth hurts. That's what I'm thinking about as I pass Ezra F. on 186th Street, on the way to the A train. There is a bit of commotion in the station and before I get to the platform I smell smoke. At the top of the stairs, I can see it's coming from the tracks. Fellow passengers are debating if the train is still running, and one laughably states that they won't risk trappage on a smoking train. A girl standing next to me looks vaguely familiar so I smile and say hi.
The announcement that train service has been suspended comes a moment later. I head out and see Ezra B. and ask if he'd like to split a cab. He knows the girl that had been standing next to me - Rach M. - and asks her if she also wants to take a cab. It turns out that Rach is roommates with Zippy K. and we head out to meet up with her so that she can join us too.
We walk towards Zippy on Broadway, but she passes us on a different street, so we hail a gypsy cab and go pick her up. I find the car comfortable and roomy, despite being in the middle of the back seat. Zippy and Rach are both sipping coffee, Zippy from the same Dixie "Grab N' Go" cups I use, except she has crushed the bottom of hers. I wish I hadn't finished mine so quickly.
The three of us talk about all manners of things, including but not limited to Toronto weddings, Central Park North, and the Israeli Day Parade. One by one the cab drops each of us off near our respective workplaces. Was it not for the whopping $40 price tag (a complete rip off despite Ezra's subtle complaint that he's previously paid only $25 for the same distance) I'd suggest we do this every day.
The announcement that train service has been suspended comes a moment later. I head out and see Ezra B. and ask if he'd like to split a cab. He knows the girl that had been standing next to me - Rach M. - and asks her if she also wants to take a cab. It turns out that Rach is roommates with Zippy K. and we head out to meet up with her so that she can join us too.
We walk towards Zippy on Broadway, but she passes us on a different street, so we hail a gypsy cab and go pick her up. I find the car comfortable and roomy, despite being in the middle of the back seat. Zippy and Rach are both sipping coffee, Zippy from the same Dixie "Grab N' Go" cups I use, except she has crushed the bottom of hers. I wish I hadn't finished mine so quickly.
The three of us talk about all manners of things, including but not limited to Toronto weddings, Central Park North, and the Israeli Day Parade. One by one the cab drops each of us off near our respective workplaces. Was it not for the whopping $40 price tag (a complete rip off despite Ezra's subtle complaint that he's previously paid only $25 for the same distance) I'd suggest we do this every day.
Tuesday, May 11
Drill Bit
For most people, there is nothing ordinary about a morning that includes a trip to the dentist but for me it's just a quick stop on the way to work. A little injection here, a little prodding there - no biggie.
The train arrives just as I reach the platform. Ezra B. is standing right behind me, and says hello when I see him. Also in the car is Jenny R. She smiles, and waves from the distance. Down to the left I notice Rebecca W. She introduced herself to me at a party this weekend (little of which I can still recall) but has yet to accept my Facebook friend request (there can be no greater insult).
I get out at 59th and notice Ezra behind me again, this time talking with a blond neighborhood girl. They walk towards Columbus Circle and I duck into Central Park, where I can watch Srugim on my phone and kill 15 minutes till my appointment.
The train arrives just as I reach the platform. Ezra B. is standing right behind me, and says hello when I see him. Also in the car is Jenny R. She smiles, and waves from the distance. Down to the left I notice Rebecca W. She introduced herself to me at a party this weekend (little of which I can still recall) but has yet to accept my Facebook friend request (there can be no greater insult).
I get out at 59th and notice Ezra behind me again, this time talking with a blond neighborhood girl. They walk towards Columbus Circle and I duck into Central Park, where I can watch Srugim on my phone and kill 15 minutes till my appointment.
Tuesday, May 4
Treats
Eliana, my cleaning lady, rings my buzzer at 8:02 AM and by the time I leave the apartment at 8:10 she is well into the bathroom agenda. Nechama B. walks past my building just as I get outside and says hello. It's a rare treat since I hardly ever see her. At about the same time, Mo H. walks into the lobby.
On 186th, I run into Michelle Z. - another rare treat. She's moving out of the hood, and I'm sad to see her go even if I know she'll be happier downtown. We chat for ten minutes, about apartment hunting, packing, and selling things on Craigslist. I recommend she post on Maalot.
Ezra F. walks by while Michelle and I are talking. She offers me a ride to work but after some debate I stick to the subway and we hurry off in separate directions. On Overlook, Esther D. pushes a baby carriage across the street. I see Dr. T. heading towards the subway, probably to take the shuttle van servicing nearby Yeshiva University.
On the platform I pass Zippy K. and say hello. She smiles and waves. I love smiles - they make people happy - and I think people should smile all the time.
On 186th, I run into Michelle Z. - another rare treat. She's moving out of the hood, and I'm sad to see her go even if I know she'll be happier downtown. We chat for ten minutes, about apartment hunting, packing, and selling things on Craigslist. I recommend she post on Maalot.
Ezra F. walks by while Michelle and I are talking. She offers me a ride to work but after some debate I stick to the subway and we hurry off in separate directions. On Overlook, Esther D. pushes a baby carriage across the street. I see Dr. T. heading towards the subway, probably to take the shuttle van servicing nearby Yeshiva University.
On the platform I pass Zippy K. and say hello. She smiles and waves. I love smiles - they make people happy - and I think people should smile all the time.
Monday, April 26
Monday, Monday
Throwing out the garbage is always a decent way to commence the week (although one must ask: why wasn’t it already thrown out the night before?). Downstairs in the basement I run into Willie and we chat about Mondays. No one likes going back to work on a Monday, and no matter how much rest one has gotten on Saturday and Sunday, the start of the week is always tiresome.
Outside, dozens of children are on their way to school. I walk to the A station and pass Ezra B. at the bottom of the steps. He is engrossed in the New York Times.
I am still walking towards my spot when Sara C. sneaks up behind me. As with Willie, we also talk about Mondays and I ask her if she went rafting yesterday with a bunch of our friends. She doesn’t like rafting anymore, and reminds me of our rafting trip last summer (or was it two summers ago), when I almost tore my rotator cuff and had to spend a few weeks in physical therapy. We also talk about fantasy novels, which she enjoys reading, though she thinks Lord of the Rings is a bit childish and the poetry far too long for her patience. I solemnly admit to skipping some of the poetry myself, but remain steadfast that it is my favorite trilogy both in book and in movie form.
As I’m talking to Sara, I notice Moshe L. on the platform, in the distance. Sara and I board the train together, but we find seats apart and I don’t speak to her again until we get off at 59th. I transfer promptly to the B train, where one stop later I run into Yaffa Z. just as she gets off.
Outside, dozens of children are on their way to school. I walk to the A station and pass Ezra B. at the bottom of the steps. He is engrossed in the New York Times.
I am still walking towards my spot when Sara C. sneaks up behind me. As with Willie, we also talk about Mondays and I ask her if she went rafting yesterday with a bunch of our friends. She doesn’t like rafting anymore, and reminds me of our rafting trip last summer (or was it two summers ago), when I almost tore my rotator cuff and had to spend a few weeks in physical therapy. We also talk about fantasy novels, which she enjoys reading, though she thinks Lord of the Rings is a bit childish and the poetry far too long for her patience. I solemnly admit to skipping some of the poetry myself, but remain steadfast that it is my favorite trilogy both in book and in movie form.
As I’m talking to Sara, I notice Moshe L. on the platform, in the distance. Sara and I board the train together, but we find seats apart and I don’t speak to her again until we get off at 59th. I transfer promptly to the B train, where one stop later I run into Yaffa Z. just as she gets off.
Thursday, April 15
Funk 54
Sometimes I get funny ideas, like wondering if it would be feasible to commute on a hot air balloon (perhaps it would make for a more interesting blog). Turning from Bennett onto 186th, I hear someone calling my name. Its Gershon S. Known to most people simply as "Stats," Gershon is a star guitar player that once played with a very popular garage band based out of Washington Heights.
Up ahead I see Benny S. and walking behind me is Ezra F. When I reach the platform, I see Lisa K. who waves to me and eventually I pass Benny, who also waves.
I take a seat on a bench near my spot, and a young man sitting next to me gets up to say hi to a woman in a stingy straw fedora. I notice he has a blue, "Spark" flavored Vitamin Water, one that I've never seen before. Adina, whose last name I can’t quite remember, says hello just as I'm boarding the train. We get on the same car, along with Benny, but I sit alone and finish reading my New Yorker.
Up ahead I see Benny S. and walking behind me is Ezra F. When I reach the platform, I see Lisa K. who waves to me and eventually I pass Benny, who also waves.
I take a seat on a bench near my spot, and a young man sitting next to me gets up to say hi to a woman in a stingy straw fedora. I notice he has a blue, "Spark" flavored Vitamin Water, one that I've never seen before. Adina, whose last name I can’t quite remember, says hello just as I'm boarding the train. We get on the same car, along with Benny, but I sit alone and finish reading my New Yorker.
Friday, January 29
Kobi's Bar Mitzvah
It’s bitter outside. Frostbite only takes about 15 minutes to set in, and it’s cold enough that I’m genuinely concerned. Right outside my building, as I fend off a strong gust of wind, someone I don’t recognize says hello and wishes me a good morning. A few seconds later, Meyer B. passes me and also says good morning.
At the train station, on the platform, I recognize the bored girl I sat across from earlier this week. This time her tights are solid black, and she is wearing a bright pink hat. Walking towards my spot, I pass Ezra F. sitting and reading. Across the platform, a homeless man is laying on one of the benches and has covered himself using a gray sweatshirt with Hebrew lettering. It reads “Kobi’s Bar Mitzvah.”
Margie C. walks over just as the train pulls into the station and we board together. We chat a little about jetlag , a little about her attractions, and mostly about marriage and relationships in general. Margie is vivid as she speaks and often gestures with her hand. At one point, she practically whacks the newspaper out of an innocent bystander. We all laugh, and Margie asks if I will write about it in my blog.
At the train station, on the platform, I recognize the bored girl I sat across from earlier this week. This time her tights are solid black, and she is wearing a bright pink hat. Walking towards my spot, I pass Ezra F. sitting and reading. Across the platform, a homeless man is laying on one of the benches and has covered himself using a gray sweatshirt with Hebrew lettering. It reads “Kobi’s Bar Mitzvah.”
Margie C. walks over just as the train pulls into the station and we board together. We chat a little about jetlag , a little about her attractions, and mostly about marriage and relationships in general. Margie is vivid as she speaks and often gestures with her hand. At one point, she practically whacks the newspaper out of an innocent bystander. We all laugh, and Margie asks if I will write about it in my blog.
Thursday, January 28
A Slew of Peeps
It's while waiting for the elevator that I notice the downpour of snow outside the hallway window. It looks beautiful, but the sky is menacing and I can feel the cold draft through the cracks in the window's frame. I get into the elevator and run into Mo H. twice. First, while throwing out the garbage - Willie the super is also down in the basement - and later in the lobby. Venturing outside and onto Bennett, I pass Shaindle S.
I stroll slowly to the station, and take in the fall of snowflakes. I even consider stopping to photograph them, but reluctantly I continue towards the train; I don't want to ruin this week's perfect streak of getting to work on time.
Ezra B. overtakes me on Overlook and I congratulate him on his recent engagement. He thanks me and mentions my blog, saying that he was thinking about the "Raise Plow" sign from yesterday's post. We chat some more before parting ways at the platform. While boarding the train I run into Doron S. He and his son are getting off and Doron waves and he bends down to take his son's hand.
At 59th, we pull into the local track. There is a another A train parked on the express track, numerous police offers strutting about. A stranger, who has also just gotten off the same train I was on, shoots me a look of wonder. Caroline M. walks by, and up the stairs to the exit. Both A trains pull out shortly afterward, a D arrives, and I continue on to another day of work. On time.
I stroll slowly to the station, and take in the fall of snowflakes. I even consider stopping to photograph them, but reluctantly I continue towards the train; I don't want to ruin this week's perfect streak of getting to work on time.
Ezra B. overtakes me on Overlook and I congratulate him on his recent engagement. He thanks me and mentions my blog, saying that he was thinking about the "Raise Plow" sign from yesterday's post. We chat some more before parting ways at the platform. While boarding the train I run into Doron S. He and his son are getting off and Doron waves and he bends down to take his son's hand.
At 59th, we pull into the local track. There is a another A train parked on the express track, numerous police offers strutting about. A stranger, who has also just gotten off the same train I was on, shoots me a look of wonder. Caroline M. walks by, and up the stairs to the exit. Both A trains pull out shortly afterward, a D arrives, and I continue on to another day of work. On time.
Thursday, January 14
Beautiful Nightmares
Dumping the garbage on the way down, I head outside via the open courtyard behind the basement exit. The air on Bennett Ave. is fresh, calm, and strangely serene. For the nth time this week, I run into Ezra F. near my building. Walking slowly, and thinking of the song "Falling Slowly" (simply because it rhymes), I take my time getting to the station.
"Current events, everything that's going on in the world, right here in AM New York." The woman holds out a newspaper and shoves it close to my nose. It's a daily event now.
The train pulls into the station just as I reach the stairs leading down to the platform. From the top, I can see Sara R. though she doesn't see me. Trying to get as close to my spot as possible, I pass Josh and Malka S. I try to say hi, but they don't see me either. When the doors open, I board right behind Kara G.
The door we came through closes, and Kara leans on it, while I lean on the door directly across from her. The advantage of my side is that it will open at the next two stops, but not again before I get off. It's a bit of investment for a better ride.
Kara is wearing an elegant gray coat and has a matching plaid bag slung over her right shoulder. Her gloves are the kind with a flip-over mitt that can expose fingertips, a style that seems to have become very popular in light of text messaging and full keyboard phones.
Nearby I can hear "Sweet Dreams, or a Beautiful Nightmare" playing through someone else's very loud headphones. I wish I was still in bed, getting some dreaming of my own for a little bit longer. I am daydreaming, at least, alerted as such by a beautiful smile from a young woman in who's direction I must have been blindly staring at. Funny thing, to be daydreaming about night-dreaming.
"Current events, everything that's going on in the world, right here in AM New York." The woman holds out a newspaper and shoves it close to my nose. It's a daily event now.
The train pulls into the station just as I reach the stairs leading down to the platform. From the top, I can see Sara R. though she doesn't see me. Trying to get as close to my spot as possible, I pass Josh and Malka S. I try to say hi, but they don't see me either. When the doors open, I board right behind Kara G.
The door we came through closes, and Kara leans on it, while I lean on the door directly across from her. The advantage of my side is that it will open at the next two stops, but not again before I get off. It's a bit of investment for a better ride.
Kara is wearing an elegant gray coat and has a matching plaid bag slung over her right shoulder. Her gloves are the kind with a flip-over mitt that can expose fingertips, a style that seems to have become very popular in light of text messaging and full keyboard phones.
Nearby I can hear "Sweet Dreams, or a Beautiful Nightmare" playing through someone else's very loud headphones. I wish I was still in bed, getting some dreaming of my own for a little bit longer. I am daydreaming, at least, alerted as such by a beautiful smile from a young woman in who's direction I must have been blindly staring at. Funny thing, to be daydreaming about night-dreaming.
Wednesday, January 13
Jam Packed
Right outside my building I see Ezra F. He says hello and I cross the street, on my way to the subway. When I reach Overlook, I look back towards 187th and I can see Ruthie W. walking with her husband.
The platform is packed. Marc R. is here and nods to me; I say hello and continue walking, through a myriad of people, towards my spot. Passing Kara G. I wave, and she smiles in return. Jon E. is standing near my spot when I reach it.
An A train comes and goes without stopping. There are numerous announcements about mechanical delays on the A line as the station continues to fill with impatient passengers. When another train finally arrives it is already packed with people and I spend the ride squashed between a small man of questionable scent and the very large purse of a woman.
The platform is packed. Marc R. is here and nods to me; I say hello and continue walking, through a myriad of people, towards my spot. Passing Kara G. I wave, and she smiles in return. Jon E. is standing near my spot when I reach it.
An A train comes and goes without stopping. There are numerous announcements about mechanical delays on the A line as the station continues to fill with impatient passengers. When another train finally arrives it is already packed with people and I spend the ride squashed between a small man of questionable scent and the very large purse of a woman.
Monday, January 11
Hustle and Bustle
I haven’t left my apartment early, nor have I left it late. I am leaving precisely on time, which might explain all the unusual hustle and bustle downstairs when I exit the building. It seems all of Washington Heights is on their way to work or school. At the entrance to the A train, a woman insists on giving me an AM New York, explaining that it’s free and has clip-able coupons inside. I decline.
I see Tall Jewish Girl, the second day in a row, sitting on one of the benches in the platform. Closer to my spot, I take my own bench-seat and Shuli B. walks by, saying hello as she does.
On the train, a very large Black man is sitting next to me, but, being on an end seat, I am not squished or wedged. The man is wearing striped brown pants and a twill beret, a heavy corduroy jacket covering most of the rest of him. The woman caddy corner to us is coughing incessantly, sniffling and snuffling without pause (and without tissue) for two stops. Avoiding further exposure, I stand up and walk to the doorway, even though I know it will mean standing the entire ride.
When I get off the train, I head towards Milk and Honey for a bagel and coffee. It’s the first day since New Year’s I don’t eat breakfast at home. I expected to buy a yogurt at the kiosk in the lobby of my office, but there is still time to spare for a proper meal instead. Afterwards, I run into Ezra T. I know him from college and we must work in the same neighborhood, since I run into him from time to time. I’m glad to see he has managed to retain a full head of hair after all these years.
I see Tall Jewish Girl, the second day in a row, sitting on one of the benches in the platform. Closer to my spot, I take my own bench-seat and Shuli B. walks by, saying hello as she does.
On the train, a very large Black man is sitting next to me, but, being on an end seat, I am not squished or wedged. The man is wearing striped brown pants and a twill beret, a heavy corduroy jacket covering most of the rest of him. The woman caddy corner to us is coughing incessantly, sniffling and snuffling without pause (and without tissue) for two stops. Avoiding further exposure, I stand up and walk to the doorway, even though I know it will mean standing the entire ride.
When I get off the train, I head towards Milk and Honey for a bagel and coffee. It’s the first day since New Year’s I don’t eat breakfast at home. I expected to buy a yogurt at the kiosk in the lobby of my office, but there is still time to spare for a proper meal instead. Afterwards, I run into Ezra T. I know him from college and we must work in the same neighborhood, since I run into him from time to time. I’m glad to see he has managed to retain a full head of hair after all these years.
Thursday, January 7
Viagra Vacation
It’s the third day in row forgoing Starbucks for my own brew, but with less time available this morning (snooze malfunction), I have to take it on the go. The cup is warm in my palms.
Ezra F. is on Bennett Avenue, most likely on his way to synagogue. I walk to the station and on my way down the steps I see Josh S. near the turnstiles. I want to get to my spot so I don’t wait to say hello. On the platform, I pass Zippy K. and then Kara S. She waves.
Sarah M. is also on the platform. I ask her to hold my coffee while I finish typing an email on my Blackberry, and by the time I’m done the train arrives. We board together and speak mostly about the same thing we did last time we took the train together – travel and vacations. She tells me how, on a recent trip to Israel, her plane made an emergency landing in Rome. On the way back, she got stuck in Brussels and made friends with a fellow Washington Heights resident, whom she recognized at the airport. They toured together for several hours, until the trouble at Newark ended and their flight was able to take off. Our conversation ends, just before I get off at 59th street, with a discussion about her profession, pharmaceutical advertising. Though Viagra is one of her firm’s clients, she does not have that account.
Ezra F. is on Bennett Avenue, most likely on his way to synagogue. I walk to the station and on my way down the steps I see Josh S. near the turnstiles. I want to get to my spot so I don’t wait to say hello. On the platform, I pass Zippy K. and then Kara S. She waves.
Sarah M. is also on the platform. I ask her to hold my coffee while I finish typing an email on my Blackberry, and by the time I’m done the train arrives. We board together and speak mostly about the same thing we did last time we took the train together – travel and vacations. She tells me how, on a recent trip to Israel, her plane made an emergency landing in Rome. On the way back, she got stuck in Brussels and made friends with a fellow Washington Heights resident, whom she recognized at the airport. They toured together for several hours, until the trouble at Newark ended and their flight was able to take off. Our conversation ends, just before I get off at 59th street, with a discussion about her profession, pharmaceutical advertising. Though Viagra is one of her firm’s clients, she does not have that account.
Wednesday, December 16
Ouch
There is a small but significant part of my toenail missing. Not nearly as bad as the story - told on the Big Show this morning - about a 6’7” minister who’s legs were cut off so that he might fit into a coffin, but still unpleasant nonetheless.
Heading downstairs and out to the train station, I run into Baruch H. in the lobby. A volunteer EMT, he says good morning and asks how I am (I refrain from mentioning the toenail). Judy R. is pushing a stroller just outside the building.
At the station, I head down to the platform and see Ezra H. at the foot of the steps. He is carrying a backpack and a Banana Republic bag, and is reading on his phone. He seems engrossed, so I don’t say hello and head towards my spot. I take the A to 59th, then switch to the orange line and exit at Rockefeller. On the stairs I hear someone say my name and turn around. It’s Adina L. We chat for a short moment and then I head out onto 47th and make my way towards the bagel shop.
Heading downstairs and out to the train station, I run into Baruch H. in the lobby. A volunteer EMT, he says good morning and asks how I am (I refrain from mentioning the toenail). Judy R. is pushing a stroller just outside the building.
At the station, I head down to the platform and see Ezra H. at the foot of the steps. He is carrying a backpack and a Banana Republic bag, and is reading on his phone. He seems engrossed, so I don’t say hello and head towards my spot. I take the A to 59th, then switch to the orange line and exit at Rockefeller. On the stairs I hear someone say my name and turn around. It’s Adina L. We chat for a short moment and then I head out onto 47th and make my way towards the bagel shop.
Monday, December 14
I Hate Monday
There are few things more hated than Monday mornings. As I head out to the laundromat, I notice that there has been yet another increase in the amount of dog poo left on the sidewalks.
I pass Mt. Sinai and see people chatting outside, among them Marc R. Services must have just ended. On the way back, after dropping off the laundry, I see Adina L. and her husband Yaki R. on the corner, near Key Food. Heading towards the train station and passing my own building, I run into some of my neighbors who are schmoozing among themselves. I see Ezra F. across the street.
On Overlook, I see David H. go into the station ahead of me. A few seconds later I walk in to find the station smelling a strange mix of urine and lemon scented cleaning solution.
I am late to work and wondering if, as is usual at this hour, I'll run into Adina S. I turn around and, eerily, she is right behind me. "You're late" she admonishes. Yehuda B. passes us on the platform and waves hello. Adina and I take the train together, talking about the recent array of Chanukah parties in the neighborhood, and I tell her all about a very drunken Rock Band after-party at my place on Saturday night. She does not sound sorry to have missed it.
I pass Mt. Sinai and see people chatting outside, among them Marc R. Services must have just ended. On the way back, after dropping off the laundry, I see Adina L. and her husband Yaki R. on the corner, near Key Food. Heading towards the train station and passing my own building, I run into some of my neighbors who are schmoozing among themselves. I see Ezra F. across the street.
On Overlook, I see David H. go into the station ahead of me. A few seconds later I walk in to find the station smelling a strange mix of urine and lemon scented cleaning solution.
I am late to work and wondering if, as is usual at this hour, I'll run into Adina S. I turn around and, eerily, she is right behind me. "You're late" she admonishes. Yehuda B. passes us on the platform and waves hello. Adina and I take the train together, talking about the recent array of Chanukah parties in the neighborhood, and I tell her all about a very drunken Rock Band after-party at my place on Saturday night. She does not sound sorry to have missed it.
Monday, December 7
New Suit
I hate carrying bags and normally try to avoid it at all costs. My new suit, however, has just been tested for shatnez, and in the process some sections of the seam were torn and now need to be repaired. Since I don’t trust any of the local talent, I’m carrying my bag - suit inside - to a midtown tailor.
Downstairs in the lobby, I run into Ilan R. with his child, and on 186th I see another parent. This time it’s Esther D. and her baby, being pushed inside a stroller. I turn onto Overlook and there is Sara S. walking towards the subway.
Sara and I walk to the station and onto the platform together. Waiting for the train, Ezra B. walks by and says hello. I also see Aviva P. and Emily L. but don’t point them out as Sara is clear her desire to avoid unnecssary morning coversations. On the train, we talk about Mt. Sinai politics, weekend plans, and various other random topics. After switching to the orange line, we end up at Rockefeller and I head towards the cleaners in the underground concourse.
Downstairs in the lobby, I run into Ilan R. with his child, and on 186th I see another parent. This time it’s Esther D. and her baby, being pushed inside a stroller. I turn onto Overlook and there is Sara S. walking towards the subway.
Sara and I walk to the station and onto the platform together. Waiting for the train, Ezra B. walks by and says hello. I also see Aviva P. and Emily L. but don’t point them out as Sara is clear her desire to avoid unnecssary morning coversations. On the train, we talk about Mt. Sinai politics, weekend plans, and various other random topics. After switching to the orange line, we end up at Rockefeller and I head towards the cleaners in the underground concourse.
Tuesday, November 17
Starlight, Starbright
A new set of leaves have fallen to the ground and, outside, it still feels like Fall. Technically, it is Fall, but I recall the days before global warming, when November was full of snow. I'm typing into my Blackberry on Bennett when a woman, pushing a baby carriage, apparates less than two feet in front of me and startles the hell out of me. Embarrassment unavoidable, at least I am able to swerve out of the way in time.
Henry R. is standing on the corner of 186th Street. He seems preoccupied and walks right past me. On Overlook I see Ezra F. who also walks right by me. A few feet behind I notice Sara R. We wave.
Kara S. is on the platform, saying the morning prayers. Being the beginning of the Hebrew month, today's service is a bit longer than usual. I continue walking towards my spot and Adam F. passes me. That make it three days in a row that I run into him. Weird.
At 59th, I see Luba K. and she waves with a giant smile. "Good morning, Ely!" she says as she climbs the stairs. It's nice to see a familiar face so bright this early in the morning.
Henry R. is standing on the corner of 186th Street. He seems preoccupied and walks right past me. On Overlook I see Ezra F. who also walks right by me. A few feet behind I notice Sara R. We wave.
Kara S. is on the platform, saying the morning prayers. Being the beginning of the Hebrew month, today's service is a bit longer than usual. I continue walking towards my spot and Adam F. passes me. That make it three days in a row that I run into him. Weird.
At 59th, I see Luba K. and she waves with a giant smile. "Good morning, Ely!" she says as she climbs the stairs. It's nice to see a familiar face so bright this early in the morning.
Tuesday, September 15
Agents Aboard
After a rough, sleepless night I am almost too tired to go to work but at least I am on time when I leave. I head downstairs and when I get out of the elevator, Ken H. gets in and we say hello.
There are two Orthodox Jewish girls loitering at the corner of 186th and Bennett. They both look familiar and I'm almost certain I've been introduced to one of them at some point in the past.
On Overlook, I spot the really tall girl who is friends with my friend Anna. She is meticulously dressed in a black top, plaid skirt, and shiny black high heels. Her glasses frame is funky, and her red leather bag adds the final touch.
Down at the platform, I see Rabbi B. He is a brilliant man, scholarly in Bible and a doctor of Math as well. I'll never forget how often he hosted me at his table during college. He says good morning and I respond in kind, then keep walking towards my spot.
I pass a woman, in beige pants and a brown flowery shirt who at first appears to be wiping her nose on her sleeve. Closer inspection, however, reveals that she is actually trying to peer into her shirt.
When the train arrives, it’s pretty crowded but I'm still able to get a seat. Somewhere near 125th street, as I'm emailing my friend Matt, who now lives in Israel, I hear someone calling my name. Its Tamar E. and her son Ezra R. She is sporting a Kindle, a gift from her job. It’s one of the perks of working for a literary agency. I work for a bank and wonder if they will ever give me money as a perk.
Since Tamar is sitting a few seats away, I get up to talk to her. She is on her way to drop Ezra off at her mom's and then head to work. Ezra, who is just a few months old, looks adorable all curled up and asleep in her lap. Tamar and I chat until 59th street, and I get off thinking this could be my big chance. She's a literary agent, and she knows she's going to be in my blog tonight, so she'll read it! It better be damned well written.
There are two Orthodox Jewish girls loitering at the corner of 186th and Bennett. They both look familiar and I'm almost certain I've been introduced to one of them at some point in the past.
On Overlook, I spot the really tall girl who is friends with my friend Anna. She is meticulously dressed in a black top, plaid skirt, and shiny black high heels. Her glasses frame is funky, and her red leather bag adds the final touch.
Down at the platform, I see Rabbi B. He is a brilliant man, scholarly in Bible and a doctor of Math as well. I'll never forget how often he hosted me at his table during college. He says good morning and I respond in kind, then keep walking towards my spot.
I pass a woman, in beige pants and a brown flowery shirt who at first appears to be wiping her nose on her sleeve. Closer inspection, however, reveals that she is actually trying to peer into her shirt.
When the train arrives, it’s pretty crowded but I'm still able to get a seat. Somewhere near 125th street, as I'm emailing my friend Matt, who now lives in Israel, I hear someone calling my name. Its Tamar E. and her son Ezra R. She is sporting a Kindle, a gift from her job. It’s one of the perks of working for a literary agency. I work for a bank and wonder if they will ever give me money as a perk.
Since Tamar is sitting a few seats away, I get up to talk to her. She is on her way to drop Ezra off at her mom's and then head to work. Ezra, who is just a few months old, looks adorable all curled up and asleep in her lap. Tamar and I chat until 59th street, and I get off thinking this could be my big chance. She's a literary agent, and she knows she's going to be in my blog tonight, so she'll read it! It better be damned well written.
Friday, July 24
Missing Breakfast
There's an early meeting at work and so I've made sure to be on time today. On my way out the building a neighbor waves and says good morning, and a few minutes later I see Ezra F. on Bennett Ave. I'm invited to dinner tonight, to some friends who live on Magaw Place, and I know he's invited as well, but not sure if he knows that I am or that I know that he is.
Up ahead at the corner I can see Adam E. walking with his child and a few seconds later I bump into Henry R. Henry was vice president of the local synagogue when I served on its board of trustees. I like him and have a lot respect for him, and I am also very friendly with some of his children. He waves and says good morning as I pass him by.
On the platform I run into Tova K. and for the second time this week, we ride together on the train. As we sit and start to chat, I notice Emily L. seated further up, at least 15 feet away. One stop later Emily sees me too. She shouts hellos and good mornings and what ups from across the subway car. I shout back and we try to converse this way but it quickly becomes apparent that this is painfully irritating to other passengers.
I return to my chat with Tova and we continue the discussion about relationships from the other day, particularly about lifelong decisions and lifelong regrets. We also talk about the recent crime wave in NJ and a girls camp upstate. She tells me she is visiting her brother this weekend, who lives in a 17th story pad, and then asks about my thumb ring. Is it the same idea as a pinky ring? I balk at the comparison. Thumb rings were essential to archery in ancient and middle times, protecting the archer's thumb from the rebound of the bow. She is surprised I am still wearing it after all this time.
When I get off at 59th, Emily and I find each other and we catch up a bit. She looks tired and tells me it's because her neighbors have been noisy and because the sun light creaks into her room early in the morning. I suggest light-blocking blinds and say goodbye when we reach my stop.
Exiting the station at 47th, I go to Milk and Honey for a bagel with cream cheese and my morning coffee. There's a lot on mind today, and its earlier than usual, which may help explain why I've left the store and am already on 5th Avenue empty handed. I've paid for my breakfast but left it on the counter.
Up ahead at the corner I can see Adam E. walking with his child and a few seconds later I bump into Henry R. Henry was vice president of the local synagogue when I served on its board of trustees. I like him and have a lot respect for him, and I am also very friendly with some of his children. He waves and says good morning as I pass him by.
On the platform I run into Tova K. and for the second time this week, we ride together on the train. As we sit and start to chat, I notice Emily L. seated further up, at least 15 feet away. One stop later Emily sees me too. She shouts hellos and good mornings and what ups from across the subway car. I shout back and we try to converse this way but it quickly becomes apparent that this is painfully irritating to other passengers.
I return to my chat with Tova and we continue the discussion about relationships from the other day, particularly about lifelong decisions and lifelong regrets. We also talk about the recent crime wave in NJ and a girls camp upstate. She tells me she is visiting her brother this weekend, who lives in a 17th story pad, and then asks about my thumb ring. Is it the same idea as a pinky ring? I balk at the comparison. Thumb rings were essential to archery in ancient and middle times, protecting the archer's thumb from the rebound of the bow. She is surprised I am still wearing it after all this time.
When I get off at 59th, Emily and I find each other and we catch up a bit. She looks tired and tells me it's because her neighbors have been noisy and because the sun light creaks into her room early in the morning. I suggest light-blocking blinds and say goodbye when we reach my stop.
Exiting the station at 47th, I go to Milk and Honey for a bagel with cream cheese and my morning coffee. There's a lot on mind today, and its earlier than usual, which may help explain why I've left the store and am already on 5th Avenue empty handed. I've paid for my breakfast but left it on the counter.
Friday, July 10
182 Bennett
I've got to make a stop before work this morning, at an apartment in the famed 182 Bennett. Its famous because the building is so heavily populated by young Orthodox singles and newlywed couples. On the way there I pass the local synagogue and the superintendent is out front hosing the sidewalk. I also see Ezra F. and David H. finishing up conversation near the side entrance. David happens to live in 182 Bennett and I am just a few feet ahead of him when he starts walking home.
In the elevator I run into Adina L. She has a bag full of groceries and says she's going to get some cooking done before heading for work. I ask if she'll be biking to work today and she says she wasn't planning on it but if I was, she'd ride with me. Maybe Monday, I say.
David has caught up and is also in the elevator with us. I don't know him too well, though we met through a mutual friend many years ago. He has an older brother Carl I'd met way back in high school, but that story is too long and too old to even think about.
I make the drop and head back downstairs and towards the train station. On the way I bump into Adina's husband Yaakov R. He says good morning and sounds surprised when I tell him I've just seen his wife in the elevator. He doesn't understand why she isn't at work. I wonder if he realizes I was away in Chicago last weekend with his twin brother, who's now married to my former neighbor and has an adorable 3 month baby.
Further towards the station I see Ari R. and we chat for a few seconds. We're both late to work, but he works in the neighborhood and has a five minute commute. I think about all the money I'd save if I could just go home for lunch every day instead of going out.
On the platform, I spot Kenny H. who lives in my building. He doesn't see me. It's so late the train is hardly crowded when I get on. To my left a woman in a red skirt is reading about Obama shaking hands with Khadafy, and on the other side a man is reading an article about vacationing titled "Ditch the City." I annoyingly read tidbits over his shoulder most of the ride, until an embarrassingly powerful sneeze sends my yamika careening across the car.
In the elevator I run into Adina L. She has a bag full of groceries and says she's going to get some cooking done before heading for work. I ask if she'll be biking to work today and she says she wasn't planning on it but if I was, she'd ride with me. Maybe Monday, I say.
David has caught up and is also in the elevator with us. I don't know him too well, though we met through a mutual friend many years ago. He has an older brother Carl I'd met way back in high school, but that story is too long and too old to even think about.
I make the drop and head back downstairs and towards the train station. On the way I bump into Adina's husband Yaakov R. He says good morning and sounds surprised when I tell him I've just seen his wife in the elevator. He doesn't understand why she isn't at work. I wonder if he realizes I was away in Chicago last weekend with his twin brother, who's now married to my former neighbor and has an adorable 3 month baby.
Further towards the station I see Ari R. and we chat for a few seconds. We're both late to work, but he works in the neighborhood and has a five minute commute. I think about all the money I'd save if I could just go home for lunch every day instead of going out.
On the platform, I spot Kenny H. who lives in my building. He doesn't see me. It's so late the train is hardly crowded when I get on. To my left a woman in a red skirt is reading about Obama shaking hands with Khadafy, and on the other side a man is reading an article about vacationing titled "Ditch the City." I annoyingly read tidbits over his shoulder most of the ride, until an embarrassingly powerful sneeze sends my yamika careening across the car.
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