“Ok, well, bye,” I say, twisting my right foot a little, the left planted firmly on the ground. The BQE quietly whizzes behind me.
“Bye,” he says with basically a half salute, squinting in the sunlight. He awkwardly leans in and gives me a peck on the mouth.
I spin in my vintage woven Brazilian leather flats and start on Hicks Street toward Congress Street, where make the trek to the G train. I cross the BQE and the over the east side of Hicks Street, looking in windows of brownstones, le petit Cobble Hill Park to my right. I make the little left on Court Street and then the little right on Bergen Street, which I follow up to Smith Street and then catch the G train.
To my surprise, the G arrives momentarily and stops in front of me. I see that I have placed myself at an ideal position where I do not have to run to make the train, as the G is half the length of the typical MTA subway train.
The train is sparsely filled. I sit on an orange fiberglass seat, trying to affect the manner of someone who is not wearing last night’s clothes and makeup.
I exit at Nassau Ave and walk to the end of the platform to take the Norman Ave exit. I walk up Manhattan Avenue and turn left on Meserole Avenue. I think about the elegant brownstones with views into stylish living rooms that line the walk to L.B.’s place, while I take in my view of Eastern Bloc style Polish-owned mom-and-pop shops, most with paper decorations and fake flowers accenting their windows. I descend Meserole Ave, passing the entrance to Club Europa, a subterranean Polish travel agency, and a post office. Our spot is on a block where residential property becomes commercial property. The view from my bedroom, the front two windows of a railroad twin apartment building, faces a 5 story brick building, of nondescript business or commercial function.
deux mille six 