The Nook

I love jetlag. I’ve been up since 2:30 AM but I’m finally leaving for work on time. On the way to drop off some laundry I see Eric B. as he exits from synagogue. On the way back, I pass David H. and he says hello as I walk by. Simone G. is in the distance too, but she is too far to see me.

I stop at Dunkin’ Donuts for a medium coffee with lots of milk, then make my way through a sudden misty drizzle to the train station. On Overlook I see Jon E. and then run into him again on the platform. He says hello and I ask what paper he’s reading. It’s AM New York. He uses it as a metric for train speed; if he is done with it by 59th street he knows the train has been moving slow.

Taking a seat on a bench, I notice the woman next to me is using a Nook. Even in New York City, striking up a conversation with a stranger can take a bit of balls, but I do it anyway and ask about the device. She tells me she loves it, that it is the best purchase she has ever made. Her father bought the Kindle and hates it, though the Kindle comes with more freebies and promos.

The screen, when I glance down at it, seems incredibly sharp. She says it’s easy on the eyes, and that new downloads take only a few seconds. I ask her about the “feel” of a book and she tells me that is one thing she does miss. Interestingly, she will still buy the print edition of a book, just to keep on her shelf, even after she has read it on the Nook. I mention that I do the same for music and movies that I have downloaded. The train arrives and I thank her just before boarding and finding a seat.

Same Old Song and Dance

Late again, though not as bad, it seems like this week has been much of a wash. Downstairs, some old Russian babushkas are chatting just inside the entrance to my building. They are blocking the door so I just stand there till one of them notices. “It’s OK” she says and motions for me to walk past. I shoot a look of wonder at her, and she realizes her cart is obstructing the door. “Sorry,” she says and moves it.

On the platform I see Jon E. and Yoni S. Neither of them notice me as I walk past them to my spot. On the train, a short man with a gray sweatshirt, black nylon pants, and a leather vest is sporting a spiky Mohawk and chatting with a friend a few seats down. I suppose the 80’s really are back, and I tune my Blackberry playlist to a set of 20 year old dance mixes.

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. 

Slippery When Wet

It snowed overnight, and it’s still flurrying when I get downstairs, small snowflakes landing on my glasses. The ground is slippery, and on 186th street a little girl is pretending to skate on the ice while holding her father’s hands. He tells her that on the weekend he’ll take her skating in a real rink.

I see Jon E. up ahead at the corner of 186th and Overlook, along with Tall Jewish Girl, who I see all the time. I reach the station and run into Malka S. at the entrance. As I enter, she is on her way out, and wishes me a good morning.

Miriam C. is on the platform, just at the bottom of the stairs. I almost don’t recognize her all hooded up in her navy coat. We chat for a while, until I hear the train coming and make for my usual spot.

Shake It Up

I head downstairs and, at the corner of 186th and Bennett, I see Julie W. She is standing near the girls school and I try to get her attention but she doesn't see me. I continue towards the station and when I turn onto Overlook, I see Jon E. walking in the same direction.

At the station, I head through the turnstiles and down to the platform, then sit on a bench to wait for the train. A woman with short blond hair and blue eyes is sitting next to me. I can hear the music blasting through her iPod headphones as she sways her torso to the rhythm, occasionally shutting her eyes. She is wearing gray pants, brown loafers, and a long black overcoat, with sleeves that give way to sharp leather gloves.

Also nearby and also listening to music is another, younger, woman, short and with a head that is slightly large for her body. She is wearing giant headphones that can distract almost anyone from noticing how cute her black shoes are. They are the perfect match to her black scarf and black tights.

I notice a rat scurry on the track just before the train arrives.

Willow

It’s nice that the heat has really broken. It’s still summer in New York City, but the wave of disgusting mugginess is finally over. I walk briskly to the station and catch the train just as it is pulling in. Miriam B. is here. She gets a seat right next to Jon E. who says hello. I sit across from them, but Miriam still takes a moment to ask about my recent trip to Israel.

Daniel F. walks right by me. He says hello to some other bloke on the train but then moves on. I am pretty sure he saw me, so I wonder if he just didn’t recognize me, or if he didn’t say hello because he is now engaged to one of my recent X’s best friends, somehow turning me off limits.

Next to me is an young Orthodox Jewish man, heavy set with blondish hair and stubbly cheeks. He has on blue jeans, a t-shirt, and sandals. He keeps trying to talk the girl next to him and show her things on his Blackberry, but she seems irritated each time. She is content to listen to her IPod, which is wrapped in a cloth case that, were it not form fitted around a piece of modern technology, might be three or four decades old. Finally she takes the Blackberry from his hand, read for a few seconds, and bursts out laughing. They spend the rest of the time chatting.

Across from me Miriam has settled in with her own IPod and is reading Soap Digest. Jon, in his beige shorts and red t-shirt, is reading The Economist, and on Miriam’s other side a woman is read Yoga Magazine. I take out the New Yorker and join them, music playing on my Blackberry in the background.

At 59th, I switch to the D train. There is a middle-aged man standing near me, tall and broad, with a pony tail of gray streaked hair. He turns around and I see his hair is thinning at the top and he has a thick mustache hanging above his lips, along with large round glasses and a wide belt. What really stands out though, is a necklace constructed of a standard metallic link chain, with a large Jewish star attached at the front. In one hand, the man is carrying today’s paper. In the other, bunches of willow stalks sprouting from a large shopping bag.