 |
| ARE WE WALKING TO THE TRAIN? |
Quarters
I do not have any quarters. I need them for the meter in the municipal lot near the New Hyde Park LIRR.station. The meters were recently changed. A quarter now only buys you a half hour. Didn't you anticipate, you may ask? Since I retired, I don't receive change anymore. No transaction produces pennies, nickels, dimes or quarters. Paul saves quarters for me but my frequent forays into NYC have depleted our supply. I did anticipate, asking Paul to obtain a roll of quarters on his trip to the bank the night before. He returned without them- apparently the bank does not give rolls of quarters anymore. There are no "quarter roller" positions in the bank. So now it is the Friday morning of the once a month meeting with my friend at Starbucks on Columbus and 67th. The walk to the LIRR train is a 20-25 minutes. It will be cold. Paul offers to drive me to the station on his way to work. This makes me very early for the 9:31AM but I will occupy myself.
 |
| MOMMY IS USUALLY GONE ABOUT 5 HOURS |
Not driving involves a switch to warmer gloves. I bring along my fluffy fleece lime colored gloves. I'll need them for the long walk home from the station at the end of the day-no Paul pickup. In addition to being fluffy, these gloves are puffy and do not fit easily into my pocket. That's okay, let them stick out, they add some color. I sit in the waiting room- texting, reading, observing. The train is announced and I go up to the platform, sit, take out my ticket and settle in. In 35 minutes, I emerge into Penn, hit the restroom and go off to the #1 uptown. That is when I notice my gloves are gone. I retrace my path from the train, to the bathroom, nothing. Great. My favorite gloves. I start noticing that most folks are not wearing gloves. I find myself annoyed with those few who are. "Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's goods" pops into my head-where did that come from? Those rote recitations from school are there just lurking in my memory ready to scold and humble and make me guilty about unkind thoughts.
Meanwhile at home Liam's day goes forward.
 |
| I'LL PLAY WITH MY TOYS |
 |
| THIS COULD LAST A WHILE |
 |
| THAT'S DONE, WHAT NOW? |
 |
| I'LL LICK A LATTE |
I arrive on time- 10:30. My friend is there and we have a situation. A prime table is available, but there is a catch. Sitting on an unoccupied table is a Starbucks bag with items-2 waters and a list. The first item on the list is a latte-no latte in this bag. No apparent owner nearby. After much discussion, we move the bag to the counter and sit down. Looks like someone just forgot the bag with the waters and took the latte bag. Probably someone filling an order for coworkers. Yet, another expression comes to mind, "if you see something, say something." I tell the server about the bag. "Oh, yeah, I remember her; she must have left part of the order." Good. Well not for her, but at least there is nothing ticking in it. On with our chat.
 |
| SOME TV PASSES THE TIME |
Star Struck after Starbucks
We are at the end of our meeting, it is about 1:05PM. At this time, my pal's hubby calls and lets us know he is on West 67th street. This is the procedure lately. He drives in to take my friend home, calls when he arrives, and waits in the car on the street. This time though, he has more news. Regis is there with wife Joy, parked right in front of him. He has seen them come out of the building and enter their car. We hurry out and I do the unthinkable, I take out my camera. No New Yorker ever does that. The understood code is that if you see a celeb you keep walking, no eye contact, and OMG no camera. Anyway, who uses a camera anymore? I do. My friend and I stand at the car. Regis comes out of his car, looking very annoyed (guess the person they are waiting for is late) He goes into the building, but first turns and looks right at me. I snap. No turning back now. I have a pic A blurry mess- but it is the Reege. He enters the building. I feel awful. What possessed me? He was already upset. Did I add to it?
 |
| SHE SHOULD BE WALKING UP THE STREET NOW |
Train
Due to my Regis gawking/stalking, I miss my 1:31 train at Penn. I have an hour to go until the next one at 2:29. I go to Starbucks, order another latte. When my name is announced, the cup shows a creative new spelling. I am no longer Carol. I am Carrol. Double r. That explains it! That crazed fan who snapped Regis is not me. I have a multiple personality. She is the one who acted so irrationally. Note to self-use this when convenient to excuse future inappropriate actions.
 |
| LATTE OF A CRAZED FAN |
 |
| MAYBE THERE IS ARE SOME CRUMBS AROUND |
Drunken speeches
A man is using the men's room entrance as a stage from which to give speeches. I have a front row view, an orchestra seat. I cannot make out his words but he is quite happy with his captive audience. This bathroom orator is removed three times by the LIRR personnel but seems to know a secret entrance and slips back into position repeatedly.
 |
| TAKING A SIESTA |
The LIRR female agent then announces that the waiting room is only for LIRR passengers, we must show our tickets. I feel so superior. I have a ticket. Another expression comes to mind "throw out the bums"
A few of us display our tickets and as this procedure goes on, two cops burst in and announce that no one should be in here unless they have a ticket; adding we had better show our tickets to them. What is this? A simultaneous frisk? The LIRR agent then turns on the cops and says, "I have the situation in hand." "Yes Ma'am" they humbly respond and they leave. Missing the train is proving quite entertaining. We erupt into polite applause. Not sure why.
 |
| ENJOYING THE HEAT |
Walk home
I am back at New Hyde Park, I have to walk home. First though, I check the station waiting room for my gloves. Not there. My jacket is a slidey material so my handbag keeps slipping off my shoulder, requiring I hold it in place. That hand quickly gets cold, so I keep switching hands. I am an hour later than I intended, school is out, hooded kids wearing shorts are all over the streets, traffic is heavy. I keep trying to cross New Hyde Park Road and I cannot. The lights are too short, the traffic unrelenting. I have my hood covering my head, hands now in pockets, bag dangling, smacking my leg as I walk. I pause by a crossing guard. She comes over and says "I'll help you cross" then I turn and she says "Oh. I thought. you were a little kid." I explain that just an hour before I got a seat because I was thought to be old, now I am getting help because I am thought to be young. She stops the traffic. We cross together. I join groups of kids walking home. I arrive at our house at 3:45 PM.
Hope Liam is awake. I have so much to tell him.
 |
| SO TIRED OF WAITING, PLAYING, SLEEPING, RESTING |
Woof, Woof
