People and Opera

Just out front of my building, I spot Meyer B. walking across the street, probably on his way home from synagogue, which seems to have let out a few moments ago. Ken H. walks by too, and into the lobby (he and his wife live one floor below me), as does Mo H. Just as I start to walk down Bennett I run into Shuli B. I haven’t seen her in weeks and we both greet each other warmly. She gets annoyed that I am speaking to her through my sunglasses, so I remove them and, as an aside, comment that I like her rimless specs. She says she wishes she could wear contacts like I do, and we talk about dry eyes for the next couple of minutes.

Further on towards the subway station, I run into David M. who is curiously clad in a dark suit. He tells me that he occasionally meet with clients for whom he must dress up. I let him know he looks sharp, and head into the station. At the far end of the platform, where I can later exit one block closer to the bagel store, I chance upon a freelancing opera singer. Not much of an opera fan myself, I can still appreciate how well her voice projects, and consider an illicit cell phone recording for later post onto my blog. The train arrives too quickly.

Tirade

One of the neighbors on my floor, an elderly man, gets into the elevator with me. We talk mostly about the weather and when I get outside it is super sunny and warm. Up ahead I spot Shlomo D. and as I turn the corner onto 186th I run into Shuli S. She says hello. I reach Overlook and run into Avi H. as well, and we both wave as we pass each other.

I see Shlomo again, entering 37 Overlook just as I am about to catch up to him. On the platform, I see a redheaded girl whom I recognize but can't quite place. She eyes me surreptitiously as I get ready to board, on my way to a meeting at Microsoft’s New York headquarters.

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.