On my way home, I saw an Asian woman walking backwards. From time to time, I sit on the church stoop to read the paper and I occasionally see this lady walking backwards, slowly of course, up and down the street. This reminds me of the hundreds of quirky pecadillos that I see daily in the thousands of people who pass.
The other day, for example, a man sat in the adjoining bench to me in Union Square. He had a top hat with a couple of feathers sticking from it and he wore pants, boots, and a slightly dirty New York Yankees shirt. He had several earrings, bracelets, and a narrow, braided black pony tail emerged from under his hat and trailed downwards along his back.
Interesting character, I thought, and then he took off his shirt for some reason to reveal a gaunt pale upper body with numerous tattoos: of Yankees symbols. He rummages through his bag and takes out his supper. He snaps open a sweating bottle of Snapple lemonade and places the bottle on the cement with a soft clank. He plays with the cover and rips off the plastic seal and finally places the bottle cap on his drink.
Again from his bag a submarine sandwich appears. He does a few tricks to place the sandwich in a brown paper bag like a winos bottle and starts to eat. I see bread hit the sidewalk and watch from the corner of my eye that every third bite or so, he rips bread, eats half, and tosses the remainder on the sidewalk for pigeons.
I tried to make eye contact with the guy, but he was clearly engrossed in his routine. The pigeons milling about in front of us bothered me because passerbys would stir them up, flapping about, so I arose and walked around Union Square again.
This Yankees guy was not isolated. A man earlier passed by squawking like a pigeon, a belt around his felt hat securing several pigeon feathers. Most of the jaded New Yorkers only blinked, but one or two turned to look at the man belting out an interpretation of pigeon calls, perhaps wishing he could escape his reality and become a pigeon?
If I could only capture and describe all that I see.
I swept the sidewalk in the morning and I noticed someone stretched the garbage bag so I assume that Annabelle was here. I need to write out my schedule for her and give it to Lilly. Speaking of whom, I should make some pannukakkua and bring that to Lilly to return the kind favor of the fruit she gave me the other day.
I'm looking forward to working, but they start so late! I debated sleeping in this morning because after work, I'll go to Central Park to meet Derek and I'll be undoubtedly exhausted at the end of today. But sleep will come easy tonight and I can drive home tomorrow and relax in the serene comfort of rural New Ipswich soon enough.
Here are some photos of sights on 42nd Street and the apartment where I live.
Lilly invited me in to share some of the pannukakku and she offered me a cup of coffee. We talked and chatted and she said simply, 'Work your hardest on your new job!'
As expected I am happily tired after working for five hours and then meeting Derek.
I walked through a light rain on my return to the apartment and noticed something on my windshield. A ticket for parking on the wrong side of the street during street cleaning. Who knew that the rules are different for the other side of the street? I did, I guess, but I forgot. So today turned into an expensive day with the $45 dollar fine.
After I worked, I took a series of trains to the financial district to get cash (I have now saved a total of $4.50 in fees) and then I made my way to Central Park. As I entered the park, a light rain began to fall increasingly heavy. I met Derek on the north side of Sheep Meadow and we walked, talked, dodged rain, ate a nice supper, walked, talked, and ate dessert at McDonald's.
It's good to reunite with like-minded friends and despite my happily tired thoughts, mom's words ring softly in my ears, 'Make new friends, but keep the old. One are silver, and the other gold.' I'll sleep now and plan my New Hampshire return in the wee hours of the morning.
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