Someone dropped a rosemary stalk, in the elevator, and a straw too. The floor's also pretty sticky, and when I get out my shoes feel glued to the ground for the next couple of steps. Outside, one of the old ladies who live in my building is sitting in the courtyard on a lawn chair. I wish her a good morning and she heartily responds with blessings for a good day.
Rachel L. swings past the intersection of Overlook and 186th, and I catch up to her right before the subway entrance. Rabbi B. is also nearby and says hello. Rachel and I walk through the tunnel and down to the platform, then into Jenny R. who forgets that I exist while talking to Rachel about her recent engagement. When the train arrives, I try to convince Rachel that since she works on 47th, she should be at the southern end of the platform, where she can get out right on 47th, instead of 50th, where she will get out if she is in the back. She is set in her ways, however, and I walk alone to the other end.
Showing posts with label Rabbi. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rabbi. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 22
Tuesday, June 8
Le Pensuer
When a shiny minivan pulls up next to me on 186th street, I think at first that the car is just parking. It is, but it turns out Gershon S. is the driver and, after spotting me through the windshield, starts honking like a madman. We chat for a while and he tells me about his new upstart business, Hudson Heights Restoration.
Zehava K. walks by and I join up with her. She wants to hear all about Matt's wedding in Israel, which I attended in May. I spot Lisa K. on Overlook while talking to Zehava, and we also pass Rabbi B. He waves. When we reach the platform, Uri M. walks by and says hello.
Zehava looks ponderous and I want her to assume the position of Le Penseur, to photograph for my blog, but she doesn't agree. On the train, she grabs a seat but I stand, preferring that to squeezing between two fairly large people on the bench across from her. At 59th, we both get off and wave goodbye.
Walking towards Park, I see my old girlfriend Debbie R. but by the time I recognize her, it's too late to say hello. As quickly as the fleeting summer nights so many, many years ago, she has disappeared into her office building.
Zehava K. walks by and I join up with her. She wants to hear all about Matt's wedding in Israel, which I attended in May. I spot Lisa K. on Overlook while talking to Zehava, and we also pass Rabbi B. He waves. When we reach the platform, Uri M. walks by and says hello.
Zehava looks ponderous and I want her to assume the position of Le Penseur, to photograph for my blog, but she doesn't agree. On the train, she grabs a seat but I stand, preferring that to squeezing between two fairly large people on the bench across from her. At 59th, we both get off and wave goodbye.
Walking towards Park, I see my old girlfriend Debbie R. but by the time I recognize her, it's too late to say hello. As quickly as the fleeting summer nights so many, many years ago, she has disappeared into her office building.
Tuesday, March 16
No Vitamins Today
I let the cleaning lady into the apartment this morning and, after a short chat, I leave for work. Downstairs, I run into Willie, the super, and then into David M. across Bennett Ave.
Sara K. leaves her building on 186th, and on Overlook I see Rabbi H. looking into the engine of his station wagon. Once inside the train station, Newspaper Guy says hello as I walk past him. Doron S. is also there, running after his son, and doesn't notice me or the fact that he’s wearing same coat as me.
A short woman with curly hair and a leather jacket smiles at me at bottom of stairs. Margie C. is also on the platform, and we ride the train together, discussing random topics. Of particular interest is the source of the strange smell in the car.
At 59th, I see Doron again, sans child, but still don’t get a chance to say hello. I transfer to the B, and get off near the bagel store, where I run into Will Y. To my deep dismay, they are out of vitamin water.
Sara K. leaves her building on 186th, and on Overlook I see Rabbi H. looking into the engine of his station wagon. Once inside the train station, Newspaper Guy says hello as I walk past him. Doron S. is also there, running after his son, and doesn't notice me or the fact that he’s wearing same coat as me.
A short woman with curly hair and a leather jacket smiles at me at bottom of stairs. Margie C. is also on the platform, and we ride the train together, discussing random topics. Of particular interest is the source of the strange smell in the car.
At 59th, I see Doron again, sans child, but still don’t get a chance to say hello. I transfer to the B, and get off near the bagel store, where I run into Will Y. To my deep dismay, they are out of vitamin water.
Tuesday, March 9
Selling Point
One of my neighbors, riding down with me in elevator, asks if I know any Java programmers but it’s unclear if he is asking about an open position that is available or someone who can fill an open position. Either way I don’t.
I get out on the basement level and Willie, the building super, gets in. I quickly mention that the faucet in my tub is still leaking a bit. In the courtyard I bump in Antonio, and then walk to the laundromat. On my way in, I notice Rabbi S. at the nearby bus stop. On my way out, after dropping off the laundry, I see that he is gone. Another bus is arriving though, and I take it to 184th street.
Josh S. leaves his building on 184th and I follow behind as he walks towards the subway. The A.M. New York Lady is no longer at the station, replaced by a more mild-mannered distributor (can you call them salespeople if the paper is free?).
I am still behind Josh when I reach the stairs. He tosses something into the garbage, and then I lose him on the platform. David M. is also here on the platform.
Nearby I spot a young woman in a gray wool coat, a black skirt, and attractive boots. Her hair is auburn and contrasts with fantastically bright green eyes. She is an Orthodox Jew, saying her morning prayers and swaying gently back and forth as she recites the words.
An announcement is made about the next train just as a drop of water from the leaky ceiling lands on my pinky. I get on the train when it arrives and at 175th a former coworker of mine, from years ago, boards the same car as me. I pretend not to recognize him, as he is probably doing the same and too far away to speak to in any case. At 59th I switch to the B train, and see Scott S.
I get out on the basement level and Willie, the building super, gets in. I quickly mention that the faucet in my tub is still leaking a bit. In the courtyard I bump in Antonio, and then walk to the laundromat. On my way in, I notice Rabbi S. at the nearby bus stop. On my way out, after dropping off the laundry, I see that he is gone. Another bus is arriving though, and I take it to 184th street.
Josh S. leaves his building on 184th and I follow behind as he walks towards the subway. The A.M. New York Lady is no longer at the station, replaced by a more mild-mannered distributor (can you call them salespeople if the paper is free?).
I am still behind Josh when I reach the stairs. He tosses something into the garbage, and then I lose him on the platform. David M. is also here on the platform.
Nearby I spot a young woman in a gray wool coat, a black skirt, and attractive boots. Her hair is auburn and contrasts with fantastically bright green eyes. She is an Orthodox Jew, saying her morning prayers and swaying gently back and forth as she recites the words.
An announcement is made about the next train just as a drop of water from the leaky ceiling lands on my pinky. I get on the train when it arrives and at 175th a former coworker of mine, from years ago, boards the same car as me. I pretend not to recognize him, as he is probably doing the same and too far away to speak to in any case. At 59th I switch to the B train, and see Scott S.
Wednesday, February 24
Rain Rain Go Away
It's still raining. That makes 48 hours, maybe more. Like a North Poler in the early winter months, I've lost sight of sunlight. I hate when it rains not because I mind getting wet, but because New Yorkers don't know how to walk with a damn umbrella. It's like playing dodge ball with your face and a plethora of metal spikes. Meyer B. passes me with panda-patterned umbrella. He doesn't see me, but he's tall and easily manages to steer clear of me; that's more than I can say for the woman with circular umbrella.
In the station, I notice Rabbi G. texting on the catwalk. On the train, I sit next to a woman reading a Vogue article about some other woman who left the city to live in rural Maine on a smaller budget. The idea is enticing for a moment, but there really isn't much to do there. This woman must have had some other motive the article has omitted - romantic love met on a connecting flight, or some strange line of business that can only thrive in the northernmost parts of the Continental U.S. No, I'll be staying in New York for now, even with its idiotic rainy-day pedestrians.
In the station, I notice Rabbi G. texting on the catwalk. On the train, I sit next to a woman reading a Vogue article about some other woman who left the city to live in rural Maine on a smaller budget. The idea is enticing for a moment, but there really isn't much to do there. This woman must have had some other motive the article has omitted - romantic love met on a connecting flight, or some strange line of business that can only thrive in the northernmost parts of the Continental U.S. No, I'll be staying in New York for now, even with its idiotic rainy-day pedestrians.
Thursday, February 4
Smelly Brew, Lacking
Lately, I’ve been making breakfast and eating at home or, in a pinch, wrapping it up and taking it to the office. Today, however, I decide to be lazy and pick something up once I get to Midtown.
On the way to the train station I see Rabbi B. rushing inside a building. Just inside the tunnel, the AM New York Lady is chastising a 17 year old boy. “Didn’t I tell you yesterday how important this is?” she hollers. “You need to know what’s going on. Read the paper. Here, take it. You can read it on the subway. Just take it!"
Sara C. is on the platform, wearing a turquoise hat with a little flower on it, a long black coat with a furry hood, and spicy black boots. I am about to walk over and say hi but she is far, and the train is approaching. I stay at my spot.
There are no seats on the train. A girl standing near me is wearing a colorful scarf with an otherwise bland outfit, and her head is furnished with large Skullcandy headphones. Also near me is a tall man with a tall cup of coffee and I can smell the brew. Delaying breakfast was OK, but it’s clear now that delaying caffeine intake was a poor choice. I struggle to keep my eyes open, even as new passengers boarding at the next station bump into me.
On the way to the train station I see Rabbi B. rushing inside a building. Just inside the tunnel, the AM New York Lady is chastising a 17 year old boy. “Didn’t I tell you yesterday how important this is?” she hollers. “You need to know what’s going on. Read the paper. Here, take it. You can read it on the subway. Just take it!"
Sara C. is on the platform, wearing a turquoise hat with a little flower on it, a long black coat with a furry hood, and spicy black boots. I am about to walk over and say hi but she is far, and the train is approaching. I stay at my spot.
There are no seats on the train. A girl standing near me is wearing a colorful scarf with an otherwise bland outfit, and her head is furnished with large Skullcandy headphones. Also near me is a tall man with a tall cup of coffee and I can smell the brew. Delaying breakfast was OK, but it’s clear now that delaying caffeine intake was a poor choice. I struggle to keep my eyes open, even as new passengers boarding at the next station bump into me.
Friday, January 15
Makes Me Wonder
I swear I'd like to slug that AM New York peddler square across the face. Every morning, she has the same stupid banter as I walk into the station.
Rabbi G. is on the platform and says hello. On the train, I lean on one of the doors. There is a seat nearby, occupied by none other than the bag of the passenger in the next chair. Clad in a plethora of winter clothing, it's difficult to say whether the passenger is male or female. It is, however, quite evident from facial characteristics and other various signs that the passenger is developmentally disabled.
A woman asks the passenger to move the bag so she can sit. She is answered with a frighteningly blank stare. Another woman walks over and also asks to sit, and the passenger tantrums momentarily, twice punching the wall and letting loose a gargantuan groan. Then, without a word, the passenger removes the bag. Neither of the two women wants to take the seat, however, and it is a third woman, boarding at the next stop, who takes it without incident.
It makes me sad, and I start to wonder about many things in life. The train arrives at 59th and I step off, spotting Doron S. in the distance. On 6th Avenue, while walking to Milk and Honey for breakfast, I see Yochanan A. I don't think he notices me and I just walk by, in a rush to get to work on time. Then it suddenly occurs to me - the passenger was wearing pink. She was a woman.
Rabbi G. is on the platform and says hello. On the train, I lean on one of the doors. There is a seat nearby, occupied by none other than the bag of the passenger in the next chair. Clad in a plethora of winter clothing, it's difficult to say whether the passenger is male or female. It is, however, quite evident from facial characteristics and other various signs that the passenger is developmentally disabled.
A woman asks the passenger to move the bag so she can sit. She is answered with a frighteningly blank stare. Another woman walks over and also asks to sit, and the passenger tantrums momentarily, twice punching the wall and letting loose a gargantuan groan. Then, without a word, the passenger removes the bag. Neither of the two women wants to take the seat, however, and it is a third woman, boarding at the next stop, who takes it without incident.
It makes me sad, and I start to wonder about many things in life. The train arrives at 59th and I step off, spotting Doron S. in the distance. On 6th Avenue, while walking to Milk and Honey for breakfast, I see Yochanan A. I don't think he notices me and I just walk by, in a rush to get to work on time. Then it suddenly occurs to me - the passenger was wearing pink. She was a woman.
Monday, November 23
Fools
The air outside is crisp this morning, it is finally starting to cool off. I'm tired, and the continuing construction at 110 Bennett is irritating.
At the station, a large group exits the elevator from Fort Wash. The platform rumbles with the sound of a moving train and they all run for it en masse, realizing only seconds later that it was headed uptown.
Rabbi B. is sitting on a bench near the bottom of the steps and says good morning. A sizable crowd has gathered on the platform and when a C train rolls onto the tracks everyone lines up, confused (only the A normally stops here), but hoping to get on. The train continues past the station.
A woman, a sort of blond version of the TV character Detective Beckett, bites into a muffin then places it back into a brown paper bag. She's reading a photocopied article titled "The Gregorian: a Tool For Assessment and Intervention in Child Welfare." Her dark, pressed pants are worn over thick boots, the outline of which shows clearly from beneath her knees till her ankles.
Yehuda B. passes by, poised in sharp gray longcoat, and issues a standard military salute. I respond with a head nod.
On the train, a young Asian is holding the musical book "Rhythmic Training” in one hand and air-conducting with the other, his head swaying with each stroke and his floppy hair following just behind. He is wearing sandals. Many on the train are eyeing him, some even giggling.
I switch at 59th, then exit the subway at Rockefeller, stopping off at Starbucks and then Milk and Honey. On line at M&H, I’m surprised to recognize the man ahead of me as the same man that was ahead of me on the Starbucks line. He orders a bagel with egg and cheese. I order my bagel with cream cheese, and it arrives first. Smug, I pay and head for work.
At the station, a large group exits the elevator from Fort Wash. The platform rumbles with the sound of a moving train and they all run for it en masse, realizing only seconds later that it was headed uptown.
Rabbi B. is sitting on a bench near the bottom of the steps and says good morning. A sizable crowd has gathered on the platform and when a C train rolls onto the tracks everyone lines up, confused (only the A normally stops here), but hoping to get on. The train continues past the station.
A woman, a sort of blond version of the TV character Detective Beckett, bites into a muffin then places it back into a brown paper bag. She's reading a photocopied article titled "The Gregorian: a Tool For Assessment and Intervention in Child Welfare." Her dark, pressed pants are worn over thick boots, the outline of which shows clearly from beneath her knees till her ankles.
Yehuda B. passes by, poised in sharp gray longcoat, and issues a standard military salute. I respond with a head nod.
On the train, a young Asian is holding the musical book "Rhythmic Training” in one hand and air-conducting with the other, his head swaying with each stroke and his floppy hair following just behind. He is wearing sandals. Many on the train are eyeing him, some even giggling.
I switch at 59th, then exit the subway at Rockefeller, stopping off at Starbucks and then Milk and Honey. On line at M&H, I’m surprised to recognize the man ahead of me as the same man that was ahead of me on the Starbucks line. He orders a bagel with egg and cheese. I order my bagel with cream cheese, and it arrives first. Smug, I pay and head for work.
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.
Wednesday, October 7
Tired
I get into the elevator together with my next door neighbor and as we ride we discuss willow trees. Out on the street an old man pushing a cart wishes me a happy holiday, and just before entering the subway station I spot Rabbi B. He says hello and I wave back.
Just inside the tunnel, there is a girl sitting on the floor with her back to the wall, reading. At first I think she is homeless, but she is not dressed very homelessly. She is wearing jeans, and a long sleeve white shirt with a black vest over it. A yellow scarf is fashionably draped around her neck.
Talia L. is on the platform and rides the train with me. She gets a seat but I am not quick enough, so I stand near her. Meyer B. is also in the car, towards the other side. Talia and I talk about work and how tired we always feel. We commiserate most of the ride, but before getting off at 59th we also talk about what we did last summer.
Just inside the tunnel, there is a girl sitting on the floor with her back to the wall, reading. At first I think she is homeless, but she is not dressed very homelessly. She is wearing jeans, and a long sleeve white shirt with a black vest over it. A yellow scarf is fashionably draped around her neck.
Talia L. is on the platform and rides the train with me. She gets a seat but I am not quick enough, so I stand near her. Meyer B. is also in the car, towards the other side. Talia and I talk about work and how tired we always feel. We commiserate most of the ride, but before getting off at 59th we also talk about what we did last summer.
Tuesday, October 6
Bring Out the Leather
Today I am wearing my leather jacket. I bought it near Lake George a few years ago. At the time, I had a goatee and often wore a black wool hat in the winter, which my friends thought made me look scary. Coupled with shiny black leather, I made for a splendid gangster, so at the store they limited me to brown suede. There was one such jacket which I really liked, but it was the last one and my friend Koby had spotted it before me. He bought it and I settled for this one instead, but it turned out to be the best second-choice I’ve ever made. The jacket has been privy to more compliments than any other outwear I own. It also turned out that Koby’s jacket didn’t fit him too well, and so, after selling it to me for $20 later on, I ended up with both of them anyways.
Outside my building I see Adam F. returning from synagogue. I just met him this past weekend, and he waves hello. I ate together with him and his wife a few times during the first two days of Sukkot, and I feel we all had a chance to bond. They have an adorable son and a questionable babysitter.
I cross to the west side of Bennett and see Rabbi H. from the fourth floor of my building. I also Rabbi B. back on the other side of the street. John E. is up ahead at the corner of Overlook and 186th.
When I get to the platform, I see John again and pass him. Kara G. is also there. At 59th, I run into Doron S. He doesn’t see me, so I tap him and say hello as I quickly walk by. Josh S. is on the D. train when I board, but all the way on the other side of the car so we don’t speak. My hands are warm inside my leather pockets and I am the first one out of the train at Rockefeller, galloping up the stairs to the exit.
Outside my building I see Adam F. returning from synagogue. I just met him this past weekend, and he waves hello. I ate together with him and his wife a few times during the first two days of Sukkot, and I feel we all had a chance to bond. They have an adorable son and a questionable babysitter.
I cross to the west side of Bennett and see Rabbi H. from the fourth floor of my building. I also Rabbi B. back on the other side of the street. John E. is up ahead at the corner of Overlook and 186th.
When I get to the platform, I see John again and pass him. Kara G. is also there. At 59th, I run into Doron S. He doesn’t see me, so I tap him and say hello as I quickly walk by. Josh S. is on the D. train when I board, but all the way on the other side of the car so we don’t speak. My hands are warm inside my leather pockets and I am the first one out of the train at Rockefeller, galloping up the stairs to the exit.
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.
Wednesday, July 29
Quiet Time
After a traumatic experience with a palmetto earlier this morning, I am not particularly overjoyed at the thought of yet another morning commute. The mugginess in the air does not help. On the way to the station I walk behind a young Hispanic girl in denim jeans and Ked-like shoes. She's wearing a blue jersey with "Posadas" printed across the back, and I wonder if it's a tribute to the capital city of the Misiones Province in Argentina, or to the famous Trotskyist Juan Posadas.
Inside the station I see Esther B. and Jenny R. talking at the bottom of the steps and join them just as the train pulls in. Rabbi B. is also there and he nods to me when I wave hello. I sit next to Esther and Jenny, and Jenny points towards the other end of the car where Aviel T. is sitting, not far from another familiar neighborhood face. I don't know him, but Esther tells me his name is Ariel. When she says "Ariel," I think she's referring to "Aviel" and I correct her but she repeats "Ariel". His name is Aviel, I say. She says no, the one in the blue shirt is Ariel, but Aviel and Ariel are both wearing blue. Eventually we sort it out.
Jenny asks where I work but like most people has never heard of the company and can't pronounce the name, so I give her my business card. She works downtown on the East side and loves her job. I notice that she is wearing a red headband that nicely matches her red handbag, which is draped over her black jumper. Esther is wearing a black top and a green sweater but I can't see her skirt at all because she has laid several books across her lap. We are not allowed to talk anymore, she says, because she has to study, lest her professor call on her during class. I protest, but she seems exceedingly tense so I let it go and turn to my Sudoku book to pass the time.
I get off at 59th and say goodbye to Jenny and Esther, and wiz by Aviva P. on the platform as I walk towards my spot.
Inside the station I see Esther B. and Jenny R. talking at the bottom of the steps and join them just as the train pulls in. Rabbi B. is also there and he nods to me when I wave hello. I sit next to Esther and Jenny, and Jenny points towards the other end of the car where Aviel T. is sitting, not far from another familiar neighborhood face. I don't know him, but Esther tells me his name is Ariel. When she says "Ariel," I think she's referring to "Aviel" and I correct her but she repeats "Ariel". His name is Aviel, I say. She says no, the one in the blue shirt is Ariel, but Aviel and Ariel are both wearing blue. Eventually we sort it out.
Jenny asks where I work but like most people has never heard of the company and can't pronounce the name, so I give her my business card. She works downtown on the East side and loves her job. I notice that she is wearing a red headband that nicely matches her red handbag, which is draped over her black jumper. Esther is wearing a black top and a green sweater but I can't see her skirt at all because she has laid several books across her lap. We are not allowed to talk anymore, she says, because she has to study, lest her professor call on her during class. I protest, but she seems exceedingly tense so I let it go and turn to my Sudoku book to pass the time.
I get off at 59th and say goodbye to Jenny and Esther, and wiz by Aviva P. on the platform as I walk towards my spot.
Wednesday, July 15
A Rabbi and a Priest
I am tired and in a bit of a haze when I recognize Rabbi B. of the not so local synagogue I've been frequenting lately. He is at the foot of the stairs when I get down to the subway platform. This is funny to me, because just last Saturday, at synagogue, my friend Koby was speaking with the rabbi and they were talking about how they always run into each other on the subway.
Also on the platform is Dani U. who I seem to have spent more time with this week than ever before in my life. He lives across the street and the other night he and Sara came over for a few hours of Wii. The three of us also had lunch together that same day, and there's a party I'll see him at this coming up this weekend, so I hope I don't overdose.
We discuss the Wii videos we took the other night and as the train pulls into the station I am too lazy to walk to my usual spot. We sit together and chat some more. A lawyer, Dani is early for work, and I, of course, am late. A man across from us is reading on a Kindle or similar device, and we discuss the technology a bit, as well as some random neighborhood politics. There are also sorts of topics for us to chat about, in fact, but it's also quite clear that the two of us are still somewhat asleep. We get off at 59th and head in separate ways, as I debate the worth of untangling my headphones for just two more stops on the next train.
Also on the platform is Dani U. who I seem to have spent more time with this week than ever before in my life. He lives across the street and the other night he and Sara came over for a few hours of Wii. The three of us also had lunch together that same day, and there's a party I'll see him at this coming up this weekend, so I hope I don't overdose.
We discuss the Wii videos we took the other night and as the train pulls into the station I am too lazy to walk to my usual spot. We sit together and chat some more. A lawyer, Dani is early for work, and I, of course, am late. A man across from us is reading on a Kindle or similar device, and we discuss the technology a bit, as well as some random neighborhood politics. There are also sorts of topics for us to chat about, in fact, but it's also quite clear that the two of us are still somewhat asleep. We get off at 59th and head in separate ways, as I debate the worth of untangling my headphones for just two more stops on the next train.
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