A Very Frustrating Morn

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.

Flossaholic

Is it OK to floss in public? Because I roasted potatoes this morning, tasted one just before I left, and now there is rosemary wedged between two teeth.
I see Tzivia H. on 186th, and on Overlook a tall Israeli man asks, in Hebrew and into his cellphone, "are you dieting?" I can hear the leash on his poodle dangling as he pauses to let the dog poop and I pass him.

In the station, I can hear the train approach but I am too tired to run for it, and I am the first one onto the platform after the train pulls out. Walking really slowly towards my spot, I am passed by Estie H. and Yehuda B. Neither of them notice me.

I get a seat on the train even though it's crowded, and watch "Up In the Air," on my Blackberry, for most of the ride. At 59th, I bump into Daniel S. We both wave hello and I go back to my movie, starving for some coffee.

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.

Caffination

I'm a coffee snob even though I don't drink much of it. I hate Starbucks - preferring brew that is handmade, like a good soup, over the push button kind - but drink it because the location is convenient. I can tell you the difference between a latte, a cappuccino, and twenty other drinks, or where the largest crop of beans is produced every year. So, it must be an indication of extreme desperation, due to extreme tiredness, coupled with extreme tardiness, when I take instant coffee (I don't own a machine) with me on the way to work today.

Downstairs, I see the wife of an old college mate unloading children from a minivan. They live in the suburbs now but his parents live down the block on Bennett.

Turning onto Overlook, I see Benny S. in the distance. That is when a lanky African American male approaches me, holding some papers in one hand and some cash in the other. He asks if I speak English, and says that he is asking because he's just been “released” from Rockland County and they told him that in New York city most people don't know the language. They've only given him $6 and maybe... "Sorry, I can't help you." He follows me for a few more steps then on to the next victim.

Homeless Guy, A.K.A. Larry, is back after a long hiatus. He and his girlfriend are sitting outside the station entrance smoking cigarettes. "Can you help out?" she asks a passerby.

I walk into the station, down to the platform, and take the last available seat on a bench near my spot. Tzivia H. walks by, her husband a few feet behind, and says good morning. Benny S. Has caught up to me and is now standing nearby as well. We both board the same subway car and get seats not too far away from each other.

At 59th I switch to the B train and run into Rachel T. It’s a rare treat to see her since she doesn’t live in my neighborhood. We chat for a brief moment until my stop. When I get off the train, there is a dog wandering around the Rockefeller station. It’s a seeing-eye dog, and the blind woman who lost it eventually finds it and grabs hold of its leash. Walking out of the station, the coffee has yet to kick in and I let my mind wander into thoughts of yesterday, too tired do much of anything else as I walk the rest of the way to the office.

Return of the Tunnel

It feels daunting, after a four-day hiatus (thank you, Bronchitis) to be back on the way to work. In the elevator, I have a conversation with my neighbor's four year old, and then head out onto a cold street. I'm thinking about the weather as I walk into the station and wow, the tunnel is back to its full glory and splendor! For the past two years the southern half of tunnel was walled off and used to store construction materials and equipment, all of which has now been cleared. I'd forgotten how un-cramped that tunnel used to be.

Newspaper Guy says hello as I pass him. Down on the platform, there is a Hispanic couple making out just at the bottom of the stairs. His hands resting on her butt cheeks, she is kissing his neck. I move quickly towards my usual spot and take a seat on the bench.

I'm typing on my Blackberry and an arm is suddenly resting on my shoulder. "Stop blogging on the subway." It's Z. We chat for a bit until another friend of Z's walks by. He is also my friend's friend's husband, which is how I know him, and he is wearing jeans, with an unbuttoned and un-tucked shirt, and Z jokes about him being on the way to an interview. They both head up further towards the front. Tziva H. walks by and says hello. I wave and as the train approaches I get up and am lucky enough to find a seat in a crowded car.

At 59th, I'm waiting for the B or the D when I see Yaffa Z. She complains about having the longest commute ever, and I remind her that I am travelling all the way from WaHi, she is coming from 96th. "Actually," she smirks, "its 91st."

Starting Out

Inspired mostly by friend Rebecca's new blog "What Rebecca Ate For Lunch Today," I've decided to give this thing a go. I won't lie, it's going to be brutally honest. No holds barred, so if you see me in the morning and steer clear I'll understand. As an alternative, though, please consider asking me to photograph those sexy new boots and show them to the world.

It's 9:00 AM or so, I'm running late and Lily Allen is playing on my Blackberry as I walk to the A. On my left, across the street, I see Adi G. teaching Yosefa S. how to ride a bicycle. It's odd behavior so early in the morning. Only one of them is wearing a helmet and watching them I wonder if that's intelligent. I don't say hi.

Into the station, through the turnstile, and there is Michal B. What's really bizarre is that she's just gotten off the uptown train. I'm sorry to startle her when I run up behind and ask, but I just have to. Turns out she's just back to town and is heading in from the airport. I wonder how she can travel so lightly and wish her a good day, then wander down the steps.

Esther B. is near the bottom of the stairs, at the back of the station, but I need to head towards the front and don't want to double back. Besides, "It's Not Fair" has just started and I hate to interrupt before the line about the wet patch.

There's no one I recognize in the train car. Next to me is a chubby Latina with large pimples and giant earrings to match. On the other side is a 30-something Asian man and immediately I notice that he has more hair than me, despite his thumb ring. Meanwhile, a large special-needs teen is kissing his father much too erotically to keep the rest of us relaxed. A short woman across the way gives me the nod that says "yes, I'm uncomfortable too."

Down to 59th and on the platform I see Benny S. and wave to him. He's the newest member of my new Friday night group. Tzivia H. is here too but she's either completely absorbed by the molecular structure of train-track alloy or is just avoiding eye contact. I wizz by and think about her unique ability to instantly calculate the square root of just about any number shy of an octillion (10²⁷⁾.

There's more, though the rest is no longer the trip to work. I meet Sara S. for lunch and on the way home Zehava K. is with me for most of the ride. We chat about our upcoming trip to Chicago and getting off we see Yehuda B. who is rushing so he can go biking. Yosef W. whirls by and says hello as the three of us make our way towards Bennett.