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.

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.

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.

Constitutional

The clock keeps ticking as I wait for Willie to come upstairs and get my key, so he can fix my leaky faucet later in the day.  At 8:15, I call him and it turns out he had an emergency to deal with.  He apologizes and sends Antonio to fetch the key.

While walking to the subway, I send emails to a few friends who are coming with me to a taping of the Daily Show later tonight. I won four VIP tickets at a Mount Sinai Panoply and want to arrange where we’ll be meeting.

Inside the station, Newspaper Guy says hello.  Marc R. is at the foot of the stairs and also says hi.  He asks if he’ll be mentioned in my blog and we briefly discuss the new draft of the Mount Sinai constitution.  Marc led a campaign against the first draft, which failed to be voted in by the synagogue membership.  He tells me that not all his issues have been addressed in the latest revision, but the most important ones were and feels comfortable with it.

I start walking towards my spot and pass Zippy K. sitting on bench while listening to music and sipping coffee from a Dixie cup.  She waves hello.  Sara R. is also nearby and says hi. Today, her hair is wavy. I wonder what is she doing in the middle of the platform; she is always near the stairs. 

David M. waves as I pass him and the train arrives just as I get to my spot.

Screwdriver

It’s still early when I head down to the basement, where I can exit through the building’s back door and head to the laundromat.  Downstairs I run into Willie, the building superintendent, and we have a lengthy conversation about my leaky faucet and the exterminator schedule.  Antonio, who is working on a project to install a supporting bracket for every air conditioner in the building, is also in the basement.  He recently finished my air conditioners and I let him know that he left his screwdriver at my place, and Willie jokes that every apartment has a remnant of Antonio’s toolbox.

At the laundromat, I ask if they will press pants without cleaning them.  The woman tells me they will do it for $3.00 instead of the usual $4.50 though sadly, they won’t wash-without-press for $1.50.

On my way to the station I realize I am wearing brown shoes and a very decisively brown outfit, and ponder the thought of people color coordinating Yamikas as well, in a Jewish metro-sexual kind of way.  On the platform, I say hi to Yoni S. and slap him five.  He is wearing sunglasses (although they might be transition lenses) and, still being winter outside, I sneer at them.  When the train arrives, I get a seat and settle in, and think about the updates I will need to give at my 9:30 meeting.

A Slew of Peeps

It's while waiting for the elevator that I notice the downpour of snow outside the hallway window. It looks beautiful, but the sky is menacing and I can feel the cold draft through the cracks in the window's frame. I get into the elevator and run into Mo H. twice. First, while throwing out the garbage - Willie the super is also down in the basement - and later in the lobby. Venturing outside and onto Bennett, I pass Shaindle S.

I stroll slowly to the station, and take in the fall of snowflakes. I even consider stopping to photograph them, but reluctantly I continue towards the train; I don't want to ruin this week's perfect streak of getting to work on time.

Ezra B. overtakes me on Overlook and I congratulate him on his recent engagement. He thanks me and mentions my blog, saying that he was thinking about the "Raise Plow" sign from yesterday's post. We chat some more before parting ways at the platform. While boarding the train I run into Doron S. He and his son are getting off and Doron waves and he bends down to take his son's hand.

At 59th, we pull into the local track. There is a another A train parked on the express track, numerous police offers strutting about. A stranger, who has also just gotten off the same train I was on, shoots me a look of wonder. Caroline M. walks by, and up the stairs to the exit. Both A trains pull out shortly afterward, a D arrives, and I continue on to another day of work. On time.

Holiday Late

I head down to the basement this morning, looking for Willie, the superintendent.  His dogs start to bark wildly when I enter the area in front of his apartment and he opens the door before I get a chance to knock.  Having expected Con Edison, he is surprised to see me, and is thankful and full of well-wishes when I hand him a card and holiday tip.

Exiting the building, I mail some letters and head for the train.  At 186th street, I can hear the shouts and shrills of schoolchildren in the recess yard, having already started the day at the nearby school.

The subway platform is eerily empty, save for a high school class that is lined up against the wall. I realize how incredibly late I am but am at least confident about being able to get a seat, which I do.  The conductor on the train has a Chinese accent.  He also, quite annoyingly, overly elongates his ‘S’ sounds, saying "ssssssstand clear of the closing doors" at every stop.

All Dressed Up

Tonight is the company holiday party and I'm wearing a suit.  I've also put on my fancy winter coat, the only one I own which extends below the jacket of a suit. It's also my warmest coat, and at today's temperatures I would have worn it regardless.

I head down to the basement to throw out the garbage and run into Willie, the building superintendant, in the elevator. We wish each other a good day and I head out the back door, running into Willie again as I walk around the block to the front of the building.

At the train station I see Nomi M. standing near the entrance, talking on her cell. I smile and wave to her, and she waves back with the pinky of the hand holding the phone.

The train arrives right away and I board.  Just as the doors are closing, I am jabbed by a horrible stench. The source is immediately obvious - a homeless man sleeping nearby. I head to the opposite end of the car, where the smell is somewhat tolerable, and hear a mother tell her child "don't worry, we'll move to another car at the next stop."

Sitting across from me is a woman in a plaid blue coat, brown corduroy pants, silver shoes, and giant sunglasses. A white knitted beret covers her hair, which is large, full of dreads, and painted blue to match to the coat. She is covering her mouth and nose with a handful of dreadlocks to avoid the stench wafting from the other side of car.

Dido's "Mary's in India" starts to play over my headphones, and it reminds me of someone I cared for long ago.

At 59th, I see Benny S. on the platform, as well as Suri G. She usually takes the 1 train but today it was having issues and she is on the 8th avenue line instead. I had just seen Suri the other night at a Cuban-Jewish event hosted by the JDC, which we both attended. The B train arrives and I get on, leaving Suri behind to wait for the A.

Building

New York City is the only place where one can cross an intersection diagonally, inadvertently halt traffic in numerous directions, and all the while manage to crack a smile from an observing police officer. I take my time while crossing and watch an elderly woman with deeply set eye sockets as she is walked by her Chihuahua.

Up ahead, I see Willie, my building superintendant. He enters the subway tunnel a few feet ahead of me and disappears into the elevators rising to Fort Wash. Newspaper Guy wishes me a good morning as I walk past his area.

On the platform, I run into three married women, all tenants of my building, but only one of them smiles and says hello.

I get onto the train and sit next to a Latin woman with a large green Marshall’s bag, which she moves so that I will have more room to sit. She exudes a large, proud smile; she has done a good deed today.

When I get off at 59th, I see Benny S. near the newsstand but I am too engrossed in the latest episode of Heroes to say hello. The show is playing on the Blackberry, I downloaded it earlier this morning while I should have been getting ready for work. Annoyingly, there are still 15 minutes left to watch when we reach my stop, but at least I will have something to do on the ride home.