Sunday, March 01, 2009

March 1

On the first day of March it is, of course, snowing. Honestly, I'm delighted. The elevated train through the falling snow lends a romance unavailable in Southern cities. And then... the snow melts, and it's brown, and awful, and the end of March can't come soon enough. 

A foot is supposed to fall by tomorrow morning. Have I said recently that I'm glad I don't drive. 

Went dancing in Williamsburg last night, the better part of an interesting evening. After stopping by a friend's house party, I couldn't reach Abbey on the phone. So I just went to were she mentioned they might be, in the Village. Nope. Not there. Thankfully it was only a short ride from there to the L stop in Brooklyn where I needed to be. 

One thing I've learned is that I don't like to explain to people why I'm impetuous. I went into the city because I didn't want to go back to the apartment and just wait. But when Abbey called when I was already in the Village and asked where I was, I stopped for a minute and then very consciously lied about it, saying I was at my house. Why? I didn't want to explain that the party had broken up and I, in a typical bout of restlessness and frustration with not being able to reach somebody, decided to just chance it and go where my friends might be and figure out I was wrong later. I'm weird.

I sat across from the most perfect hipster boy ever on the train. Teal and pink backpack and coat, curled Snidely mustache. 

The train home was another story. If you don't live here you might not know this, but the G is the most horrible subway line in transit history. But it runs right from Williamsburg to the elevated tracks outside my window. So I got on it at 4-something a.m. last night, willing to stand around for a while if it meant not paying a cab to get home. One comes without a horrible wait, and off we go. Then, about halfway to the house, the train stops at the Clinton/Washington station in Fort Greene. This happens now and then, but there's no way another train was in front of us. Trust me. I waited for this one long enough to know. So after 10 minutes of waiting and barely staying awake, I walk out of the car and see the conductors looking at something in the front. Line of sight clears the train and I see a mentally disturbed man down on the tracks, running back and forth and shouting at everyone to leave him alone. The cops come eventually, but they're trying to talk him down (or up, in this case) because they don't want to go down there. I leave, finally, walk through the snow in what I believe is the right direction and finally catch a cab home. It's just before 6 when I finally get here.

I hope I'm ready for a new week. Sounds kind of soothing after that adventure.


Elissa said...

Re. the last post: Massages are the greatest. I can't believe I never had one before last summer! And occasionally you can get your health insurance (do you have health insurance?) to pay for it.

Sorry crazy guy ruined the trip. Maybe it's not nice to call him crazy guy, but it's not nice for him to force you off a perfectly good train, either.

Rabbi Lars Shalom said...