Fun and New

It's never fun going back to work after the weekend, but every new Monday can usher in a week full of new opportunity.

I drop off my laundry and take a different route to the train station, walking down Broadway instead of turning on 187th and then onto Bennett.  Miriam L. pops out of key food just as I pass the entrance, wearing a dark hoodie and blue sweat pants underneath her skirt.  A naturally born spiffy dresser and a usual early bird, she seems out of place. "Aren't you a bit late for work?" I ask.  She is working from home today, and has already been to the gym and completed some paperwork. For a moment I contemplate turning around and doing same (the working from home part), but once I'm dressed and out of the apartment there's little purpose to it.   We chat for a few more minutes and I continue on my merry way, ready for adventure.

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.

Tourists

Ah, tourists.  Why anyone would travel to a winter clad New York, when the same money can get take them to the warm shores of San Juan or Miami Beach, is a mystery to me.  Next to me on the bench, waiting for the A train, are two foreign women scouring through subway maps of Manhattan and site seeing coupon books.  I'm trying to discern what language they are speaking when Miriam C. walks over.

Ken H. passes us on the platform and waves just as the train arrives.   Miriam and I ride together to 59th street.  I stick around to wait for the B or the D, and she walks makes the exit.  She turns around for a moment, to say goodbye, and WACK!  She slams right into a solid blue pillar.  I yell "that's going in the blog" with a distinctly evil grin.

Sticky Situations

I walk outside and realize how incredibly chilly the morning air has become these past few days. Right in front of my building, Emily T. is pushing a baby stroller and chatting on the phone. She smiles at me and continues her conversation, something about “the videos” and she “can’t believe it!”

Halfway through the tunnel inside the train station, a commotion begins behind me. Someone calls out for the formation of a single file, and I turn around to see a fairly large high school class lining up. When I was in high school, we never took public transportation on trips, and it still astonishes me to see New York city classrooms transplanted to MTA property.

On the platform, I see my friend Tamar’s brother, who’s name I don’t know. I also run into Miriam C. and we ride the train together, talking about holiday plans, the best kosher eateries in Midtown Manhattan, and some of the stickiest situations we’ve ever found ourselves in. Anyone who says the quintessential morning commute is definitively spent alone simply hasn’t heard Miriam’s stories.

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.

Columbus Ave. Breakfast

I am surprised when I leave my building and find the air has actually become chilly. There is a man dressed in the full traditional Jewish garb of Tallis and Phylacteries walking casually down the street. Except in synagogue, its unusual outside of ultra religious neighborhoods to see people dressed this way.

I reach the subway platform and it’s more crowded than usual. I quickly spot Benny S. Also on the platform is a couple that lives in my neighborhood. I don’t know them at all except that I often see them together on the subway. A few nights ago they had been in a fight on the way home, and finally as they were getting off I overheard her apologizing. Today, he is wearing a light blue t-shirt with camouflage army shorts and is carrying two large bags, one from Kenneth Cole. She is wearing gray pants, a black hooded sweater, and her dirty blond hair is propped up with sunglasses. He is tall with a big nose, she is short and her nose is small and cute. Her big brown eyes always look sad.

At 59th street I run into Shifra G. and Devora K. who are talking to a nice guy, introduced as Dave. Devora mentions that sometimes she follows my blog. They all live on the Upper West Side and when Miriam C. who lives near me in WaHi, joins us, we talk about how 59th street is a good rendezvous point for people from both neighborhoods. Shifra advocates meeting again tomorrow, and assigns each of us to bring coffee, orange juice, muffins and donuts.

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.

Umbrellas

I hate umbrellas. I rarely use them, but this morning the rain is so bad I have little choice. On 186th Street I see Harriet and she waves. I wave back and continue on to the station. Miriam B. is walking out as I'm walking in. She has taken the elevator down from Fort Wash and tells me she is on her way to see a client.

Swiping my card at the turnstile, I get the infamous "insufficient fare" message, and am surprised to learn that my monthly has expired yet again. I am getting a new card and just finishing the purchase when I hear the train approaching. I don't run for it, and I miss it, but once on the platform it's clear that was an uptown. There are still plenty of people waiting for the downtown. Adam E. is on the platform just ahead of me.

Walking towards my usual spot I run into Tova K. We sit together on the train and discuss her upcoming travel plans. Two nights ago, we spent an hour on the phone - I was giving her tips on what to see in various European cities - and so the subject switches quickly. We move into a discussion about relationships. This seems to be the new hot topic in the neighborhood, with lots of scandalous chitchat to fuel it. I'm glad to say, however, that our conversation is able to stay away from the shallow, even as we discuss people that have long ago fallen off the deep end.