Chronicles Continued

It’s snowing, that great, crumbly ski-perfect snow, not quite as cold as yesterday. As I walk toward the bus stop two blocks away, I’m thinking ‘should have brought an umbrella’.  As I approach, to my delight, I see the bus already there and idling. When I board, the driver says, ‘Won’t be leaving for a few more minutes.’ I realize what he has done, rather than sit two blocks away while he waits for his schedule to begin, he came around the bend to the first stop, so that at least those patrons didn’t have to stand in the weather, while he sat alone in an empty idling bus nearby. That’s thinking of what your job entails.

Last night at 11:15 the buzzer to my apartment rang.  That meant someone at the street level was wanting something.  I could hear commotion, and so listened more intently to see if it might be a neighbor who forgot their outer door key. Living in a small apartment building, all of us are known to one another with varying degrees of friendship, but there is a camaraderie of helpfulness.  They were insistent voices but none that I recognized.  I ignored the buzzing.  The buzzing stopped and then started again.  I went to the intercom and asked who it was. “We’ve rented apartment number 2 and our door key doesn’t work and” -a bossy male voice in the background said- It’s cold out here, let us in!”  None of this made sense to me, because apartment number 2 has a friend living it in full time. To reply on the intercom one has to switch from the talk button to the listen button and back to the talk button.   It took a bit of switching for a coherent story to emerge.  The ‘voices’ had rented apartment number 2 for a week, had been having trouble with outer door key, and they would show me the papers if I would let them in, now!  I pressed the buzzer, put on a robe and went to the top of the stairs.  The young woman, smelling dizzingly of alcohol showed me the rental papers for apartment number 2.  Apparently, my friend, who left a few days ago to return to her family, in another state, decided to rent her apartment via an agency for temporary visitors to the City.  I have known this as possible, I had never seen it in action.  Her one bedroom apartment is lovely, well-furnished and full, as is any limited space apartment.  I wondered how it would be to have complete strangers, not someone you know in the slightest, and in this instance, someone from another land, being in your space. Drunk. Of course she thought, this will go smoothly, there is an agency, they are responsible, no one will be the wiser or bothered… and yet..

When I sat down, on the seat in front of her on the bus, she was speaking softly into her phone. Not intending to overhear….she says… I’m still at work.

It is Cold! The puppy-mill dogs for sale for hundreds of dollars are out of the windows where they normally frolic in order to entice buyers to purchase. The windows now have signs hanging in them, asking you to come inside to play.
No one is sleeping on the street, it is suicide to do so. I saw a teen sitting on the sidewalk this afternoon, with his panhandling sign, and I could not imagine how long he was going to last, before the bone-numbing chill forced him to move away. The deli windows are frozen about a foot up, or are covered with condensation until eye level. Everyone is hunkered down inside their outer garments, with hats pulled over their ears or neck scarves up to the lower lashes. I had a scarf inside my coat and another one on the outside. That was in addition to 4 layers underneath.  The oldtimers on two of the buses today said this is the way New York weather is meant to be.  The last two winters they said, were way too mild.  One thing is certain, this should thin out the spring-time bug population.  Those flies that over winter in the window jams are most likely not going to make it.

on the bench that provides seating for those who purchase items to eat from the deli. Only he was prone. What caught my eye before I got to his prostrate figure was the policeman and the jogger talking with each other, intently. He on the bench was about 65-70, overweight, unshaven, and wearing one of those typical ‘older man’ tee shirts, a couple of them. When I passed the trio, and looked at him, he was staring into the void. It made me realize, again, how fragile we all are. One day we are up and the next day.. could be it.

… while my life veers all over the map. I have gone nowhere…just keeping it together along with everyone else.

“This seat is reserved for someone in a really good mood”. Oblivious to the sign but seated below it was a girl, laughing and talking on a cell phone. Pure coincidence, as beside her, one seat away from the poster sat a somber pensive girl. They could as easily have been switched.

So I don’t have to tell.
It was a weekend to beat all weekends, none of which is reportable. But I can tell you the main event I missed: the ‘No pants subway ride’. Everywhere, apparently on Sunday, improv groups in their skivvies and less were riding the rails and I missed it!!

Was waiting at a traffic light behind the wheel of a car on a street in Soho, just past noon today. Noticed an Asian woman on the sidewalk to my right and ahead, pushing a baby stroller with her right hand, while taking a picture of a piece of fashion in a window with the camera in her left hand. She was walking in my direction.  At the same moment, I watched a small child roll out of the stroller onto the sidewalk, dangerously headed toward the curb. The child lay on the cement for a moment, then rolled over again and struggled to standing. While this was happening, the mother walked on pushing the stroller, intent on more photos. As the mother continued along the windows, the child, small, about 2 years of age, crying loudly and animated, waddled along behind the mother who paid it no attention, whatsoever! Half a block it takes for the child to catch up with the mother and the mother, takes the child’s hand, and continues walking, no picture taking as her left hand now is needed to push the stroller. The light turned green and the car behind me honked. I moved on.

It was the subject of discussion for at least 20 minutes after I arrived and others kept arriving. The cough of a fellow passenger on the Subway. Whether they covered their mouth, how many times they coughed, were you sitting next to them, are you now feeling ill. It is amazing to watch it happen. A person coughs and everyone in the car turns toward them with very watchful eyes. And the watchful eyes are waiting to see if the cough is going to be repeated. It is a vicious cycle.