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.

Shoe Circle

On my way through the turnstiles I see Michael P. walking out. At least I think it’s him. Having not seen him in about a decade it’s difficult to tell, and I also can’t quite imagine what he ‘d be doing in my neighborhood, but I’m pretty certain it was him.

On the platform, I see Kara G. saying her morning prayers and wave. She says hi. I also see the guy from my office building, who lives near me and who’s name I can’t ever remember. Further on down the platform, I see Zehava K. She is afraid to talk to me, and there are no seats left on the bench, so I just wander about. A cute blond in a denim skirt tells her boyfriend he looks “really sharp” (he does), and, pointing to his sneakers, he asks if she likes his new “ten-ees.” When the train pulls in, they kiss goodbye and he walks towards the front.

Zehava is also wearing a denim skirt, although not nearly as short or as tight as the blond. I ask about her sandals, which have a cute flower near the big toe. She bought them in Israel two summers ago and wore them every day. We board the train and agree to zone out – Zehava listens to her iPod and reads the paper, I turn on my Blackberry and fade.

Yellow Sweater

As soon as I walk out the building, it seems to be a busy morning all around me. Workers are climbing up and down the wobbly ladder leaning against the scaffolding at 110 Bennett, a woman is training her dog with a large stick, and at the corner of Overlook and 186th a there is full size Con Edison crew, complete with tractor, that has dug up a large chunk of the ground. The putrid smell of gas is in the air all around me.

Rebecca S. is nearby and we meet up across the street. She is wearing a bright yellow scarf sweater except it’s not a sweater, it’s a t-shirt. She tells me it’s called a “t-shirt with a scarf.” It looks great and I want to photograph it for my blog, but Rebecca won’t let.

We both walk into the station together, chatting more about her clothes and random other topics. On the platform, I see Benny S and wave. Rebecca sees a friend that is moving into a new apartment this week, and stops to chat with him for a moment. Then we run in Zehava K. and I stop to talk to her. As the train arrives, Rebecca continues further on, towards the front, by herself.

Zehava gets a seat and I stand next to her. She asks about my trip and if I got to see Matt in Israel. Matt left Israel the day I arrived there, I tell her, and he left New York the day I got back, but we did manage to catch each other for about an hour right after I landed. She also tells me she thinks Rebecca’s shirt is great and I should mention it in my blog. When a seat finally opens up across from Zehava, I grab it, and she slips on her headphones I slip mine on too. Holding up my Blackberry for her to see I’m listening to the soundtrack from Once, which I know she loves, I slowly fade into “Falling Slowly.”

Slimdown

My pants don't fit. I'm already running late and struggling to buckle them so I decide to leave them as is. I strap on a belt and problem solved - the buckle covers the open button - and I head downstairs. In the elevator a neighbor is telling his son about the largest cucumber known to man, which has been grown by a farmer in Israel.

Halfway to the A train I see Sara Ch. about a half-block behind me. I also see that the top of my pants are sticking out above the belt buckle, and I have to suck myself inwards to snap them shut. Does she see me? A few minutes later I turn around and she waves.

Just as I pass through the turnstile, Sara catches up and swipes her card. Insufficient fare! She turns back for a new metro card. We've just missed the downtown so I wait up and when she finally gets in we walk down the platform together. We talk about the wedding in Chicago everyone is going to this weekend. The only time she's been to the Midwest was a September trip to Milwaukee, and she was very cold.

I get to my usual spot and Sara keeps going. Karen L. is here and I take a seat next to her on the bench. We chat about the Chicago trip as well. She can't go because she and her husband need to be in Boston. Karen is reading "Nicholas Nickleby" by Charles Dickens, a giant of a book which she's almost finished. She thinks it's a terrible book for the subway, because it's too heavy to carry.

Karen and I are still chatting when Zehava K. walks by. She says saw me earlier, from her window, walking to the subway. To other people this might feel creepy but to know Zehava is to know the great joy she gets from watching the pedestrian traffic from her Bennett Avenue abode. She will also be at the wedding and as the three of us chat I notice Zehava has lost weight. Last Sunday, the two of us went bicycle riding over the George Washington Bridge and into NJ. I had trouble keeping up and although I'd like to blame my knees or my less sporty bike, I am just not up to snuff yet.

We hear the train approaching in the distance and Zehava leaves to get closer to the front. Lisa K. shows up and says hello but quickly disappears as Karen and I wait to board. The same tall girl from last week is here too. Further on the platform I can see Shosh P. but she is too far away for me to get her attention, and it's too bad, especially since she knows about my blog. I can't help but wonder if, when it comes to seeing her own name in print, she would prefer a day of anticipation or a surprise at night.

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.