Going to sleep early, and waking up early, doesn't actually give you more time to do things. That's why I'm still frustrated at getting locked out of my apartment building for 45 minutes earlier this morning, an event that has dominoed into my morning commute. I am now 45 minutes late despite the fact that I was up before 3:00 A.M.
I rush to the train station thinking of nothing but the fact that my new watch is too thick to fit underneath any of my shirt sleeves. In the tunnel at the station, I pass Michael Z. and his daughter, and on the platform I pass Tzivia H. talking to her husband. Rachel L. is also here. She is quietly reciting her morning prayers, so I walk right by without saying hello.
Sarah M. is standing near my spot. I stop and wave, and when she waves back I see she is also busy platform praying. The train arrives and we both get on the same car. I find a seat, but she heads in the other direction and ends up standing.
Showing posts with label Sarah. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sarah. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 26
Friday, May 7
Aaayyyyyy
At the station, we spot Sarah M. all the way at the other end of the car. I’ve been helping Aliza get started with her new blog and we discuss it for much of the ride, along with random other gossip and talk. Aliza doesn’t notice that the women sitting next to her is smiling at me and laughing at all my jokes.
At 59th Street, Aliza and I split up. I take the next train to Rockefeller, and get off at my usual exit on 48th. Halfway down the block, I see Henry Winkler. He is sharply dressed and clean cut, though obviously looks much older than I remember him. He seems such a sweet man, taking pictures with all who ask and chatting with them at length. Sadly, he is practically inside his car by the time I get my own camera out.
Friday, April 30
Oil Spill
I head down to the basement with a gallon of canola oil but no clue how to dispose of it. I can’t throw it out, it’s in a plastic jug which needs to be recycled, and I can’t dump the contents into the sink or risk an oily slick forever lining the plumbing. Luckily, Willie is downstairs and tells me just to leave it on the floor, he’ll take care of it.
I leave the basement through the courtyard out back, taking Broadway instead of Bennett. Just outside, I bump into one of my neighbors, who wishes me a good morning. In front of Key Food, I see Anat C. who also wishes me a good morning.
Dunkin’ Donuts makes terrible coffee, and today the line is so long I really wonder why I didn’t just wait to get to midtown for some java. I suppose that after such a long week and such a short night I just need it now.
On 186th Street, at the corner of Bennett, Malka S. is crouching next to one of her children, while two other kids linger behind. The security guard, who works at the nearby elementary school, says to the child, "Ima [Hebrew for mother] will get mad if you go off the sidewalk.”
Aliza texts me about being late for an interview. Do I recommend waiting for the bus or hopping into a cab. I reach the station and run into Sarah F. “Twice in one week,” I say. She smiles and we both board the train.
I leave the basement through the courtyard out back, taking Broadway instead of Bennett. Just outside, I bump into one of my neighbors, who wishes me a good morning. In front of Key Food, I see Anat C. who also wishes me a good morning.
Dunkin’ Donuts makes terrible coffee, and today the line is so long I really wonder why I didn’t just wait to get to midtown for some java. I suppose that after such a long week and such a short night I just need it now.
On 186th Street, at the corner of Bennett, Malka S. is crouching next to one of her children, while two other kids linger behind. The security guard, who works at the nearby elementary school, says to the child, "Ima [Hebrew for mother] will get mad if you go off the sidewalk.”
Aliza texts me about being late for an interview. Do I recommend waiting for the bus or hopping into a cab. I reach the station and run into Sarah F. “Twice in one week,” I say. She smiles and we both board the train.
Thursday, April 29
Quiet Morning
One of the three turnstiles is broken and a second one is occupied by a buffoon that can’t swipe his card correctly. The resulting jam builds up several feet of traffic before I am finally through to the other side. I see Sarah again at the bottom of the steps, and this time she sees me too. She waves and says hello. I can’t actually hear her because of my headphones, but I wave back and smile. Benny S. is also on the platform, still bearded, and also waves as I pass him.
Friday, March 5
Last Day of the Week
I head downstairs and on Bennett Avenue I see Shifra A. getting out of her black SUV. She is wearing a gray overcoat and stomping across the street in high decibel heels. She asks “what's up?” as I wave. Up ahead at the corner I see Sarah F.
At the station, I can hear the train approaching but continue my calm pace as others run towards it. I don’t reach it in time, but none of them do either. At the bottom of steps I see Doron S. with his little boy.
Isaac D. is also on the platform, fishing through his knapsack. He doesn't see me as I walk by towards my spot. When I get there, I find Yael B. right next to me and she says hello.
There is a soft saxophone playing at the far end of the platform. It is pleasant, but muffles an announcement about an approaching downtown train which was already difficult to hear.
At the station, I can hear the train approaching but continue my calm pace as others run towards it. I don’t reach it in time, but none of them do either. At the bottom of steps I see Doron S. with his little boy.
Isaac D. is also on the platform, fishing through his knapsack. He doesn't see me as I walk by towards my spot. When I get there, I find Yael B. right next to me and she says hello.
There is a soft saxophone playing at the far end of the platform. It is pleasant, but muffles an announcement about an approaching downtown train which was already difficult to hear.
Thursday, February 25
Brownie
My neighbor's daughter is in the elevator when I get in. She is wearing a colorful argyle baseball cap and I tell her I like it. Outside the sky is still cloudy and yesterday's rain has turned to snow, forming a thin layer of slush on the ground. On Overlook, Sam L. and Scott S. leave their apartment building and cross the street towards the station. Sam is looking very brown, with a dark brown coat, a light brown skirt, and plaid brown boots. Scott is wearing his hood up, like me. I wave hello while they get a newspaper and then head inside.
On the train, I sit next to a small woman who after a few minutes starts sniffing rigorously. When a little bit of snot starts to peek out her nose, I take it as a queue that it’s time to switch seats.
At 59th I run into Sarah S. She is in a rush and runs past me. It's then that I realize I'm already 7 minutes late to work, the second part of my trip still ahead of me.
On the train, I sit next to a small woman who after a few minutes starts sniffing rigorously. When a little bit of snot starts to peek out her nose, I take it as a queue that it’s time to switch seats.
At 59th I run into Sarah S. She is in a rush and runs past me. It's then that I realize I'm already 7 minutes late to work, the second part of my trip still ahead of me.
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.
Friday, November 20
Flirtation
I'm late. Not because I needed the extra sleep, but because I've become utterly addicted to the new Mario game for the Wii. Outside, the sky is sunny but the ground is wet. Last night's rain has left leaves all over the place, many of them stuck to the parked windshields of unsuspecting drivers.
In the station, I say hi to Newspaper Guy and realize that in close to a decade I can't recall ever seeing him without sunglasses. He waves and I continue towards the platform. Tzivia H. is here with her husband, buying a metrocard. Once downstairs, I see Debbie R. We both give a quick hello and I head towards my spot.
The train arrives quickly and I get on board. Adina S. and Sarah M. are here and I join them. They want to go on a trip around the world, six weeks long with a different destination each week. Sarah invites me along but I'd want to go to Antarctica, it's number one on my list, and that might be too cold for her. Adina spends most of the time saying her morning prayers, but when she finishes we all talk about flirtation - the rights, the wrongs, the hows, and the whos. They both accuse me of being a monumental flirt. I take the comment in stride, especially when the ladies request lessons. It's a sure way to keep me smiling the rest of the ride.
In the station, I say hi to Newspaper Guy and realize that in close to a decade I can't recall ever seeing him without sunglasses. He waves and I continue towards the platform. Tzivia H. is here with her husband, buying a metrocard. Once downstairs, I see Debbie R. We both give a quick hello and I head towards my spot.
The train arrives quickly and I get on board. Adina S. and Sarah M. are here and I join them. They want to go on a trip around the world, six weeks long with a different destination each week. Sarah invites me along but I'd want to go to Antarctica, it's number one on my list, and that might be too cold for her. Adina spends most of the time saying her morning prayers, but when she finishes we all talk about flirtation - the rights, the wrongs, the hows, and the whos. They both accuse me of being a monumental flirt. I take the comment in stride, especially when the ladies request lessons. It's a sure way to keep me smiling the rest of the ride.
Friday, November 13
Wind and Talk
Bill Evans, the Channel 7 meteorologist, said this morning that winds will be gusting to 50 miles an hour. For a bald guy that wears a yamika, this can spell trouble, but downstairs the air seems calm enough.
On the way to the train I pass a dollar bill on the floor but my uncaffeinated reflexes don't realize what it is until I am long past it. Even if I'd noticed in time, I'm not sure I would have picked it up. As a child, I had a joke bill that when folded on the ground looks exactly like U.S. $50, but once picked it up said something to the effect of "jokes on you."
I see Aliza B. walking towards the station as I'm walking inside. I've known since yesterday I'd see her. That's because I saw Aliza yesterday morning, and by some weird destine fate I never see her less than twice in a row.
On the platform, I pass Yael B. as she sips coffee from a blue thermos. She doesn't seem to notice me as I walk by. I also run into Sarah F. and her husband Adam F. They both say hello and walk past me.
Ilana Cowen walks past me too and I say hi. She stops to talk and we get on the train together. Her Mac is in disrepair, and when she asks if I can fix it I tell her that is not my area of expertise. She also tells me about an 1199 rally she attended in Albany yesterday. It’s clear that, this early in the morning, I am too tired to function, let alone carry on a proper conversation, so it’s not surprising when she tells me I ought to be taking a nap.
Leaning against the subway doors, I rest my head on the glass. Ilana somehow enters into conversation with a total stranger, a girl in a long charcoal overcoat and a big blue backpack strapped all about her. It’s hard to hear exactly what they're saying, but I think they are talking about "Night Pleasures," the book the girl is reading. The train has gotten crowded, elbows seem to be protruding everywhere, so I let my eyelids rest until 59th street. Just one more day to get through before the weekend.
On the way to the train I pass a dollar bill on the floor but my uncaffeinated reflexes don't realize what it is until I am long past it. Even if I'd noticed in time, I'm not sure I would have picked it up. As a child, I had a joke bill that when folded on the ground looks exactly like U.S. $50, but once picked it up said something to the effect of "jokes on you."
I see Aliza B. walking towards the station as I'm walking inside. I've known since yesterday I'd see her. That's because I saw Aliza yesterday morning, and by some weird destine fate I never see her less than twice in a row.
On the platform, I pass Yael B. as she sips coffee from a blue thermos. She doesn't seem to notice me as I walk by. I also run into Sarah F. and her husband Adam F. They both say hello and walk past me.
Ilana Cowen walks past me too and I say hi. She stops to talk and we get on the train together. Her Mac is in disrepair, and when she asks if I can fix it I tell her that is not my area of expertise. She also tells me about an 1199 rally she attended in Albany yesterday. It’s clear that, this early in the morning, I am too tired to function, let alone carry on a proper conversation, so it’s not surprising when she tells me I ought to be taking a nap.
Leaning against the subway doors, I rest my head on the glass. Ilana somehow enters into conversation with a total stranger, a girl in a long charcoal overcoat and a big blue backpack strapped all about her. It’s hard to hear exactly what they're saying, but I think they are talking about "Night Pleasures," the book the girl is reading. The train has gotten crowded, elbows seem to be protruding everywhere, so I let my eyelids rest until 59th street. Just one more day to get through before the weekend.
Thursday, October 15
Dust in the Wind
In a brave, bold move, I decide to take the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator. The staircase’s windows overlook 187th street and on my way down I see Yaki R. walking out of synagogue with someone else. I have a slight cold, and my eyes hurt, so I am not wearing contact lenses as usual. This is especially irritating today, as there is a slight drizzle of rain outside and there are few things more frustrating than the speckles they create on eyeglasses.
The V. Rusciano Construction Company, Inc. has torn up most of 186th street, there is big gaping hole along most of the street between Bennett and Overlook. There is a lot of dust in the air and I rush through it to get to the station. Inside, I am about to go through the turnstile when I hear someone calling my name. It’s Sarah F. walking in the other direction, out of the station. I say hello and ask how she is doing, then continue down to the platform. I pass Lisa K. and wave, and she smiles back. The train, when I board, is almost empty and I easily find a seat, relax, and watch some TV on my phone.
The V. Rusciano Construction Company, Inc. has torn up most of 186th street, there is big gaping hole along most of the street between Bennett and Overlook. There is a lot of dust in the air and I rush through it to get to the station. Inside, I am about to go through the turnstile when I hear someone calling my name. It’s Sarah F. walking in the other direction, out of the station. I say hello and ask how she is doing, then continue down to the platform. I pass Lisa K. and wave, and she smiles back. The train, when I board, is almost empty and I easily find a seat, relax, and watch some TV on my phone.
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