3 posts tagged “new york”

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cold toes

even though i have been inside for a good hour again, the cold just stuck to my feet and does not want to let go. what can i do? there is no way for me to soak my feet in hot water here at the office.

i will need to use the power of imagination.
oh, dangerous fiery thoughts.

2 comments Tags: office life, new york, finally colder again

sorry.

the c train went through its really rough moments, shaking us in unhealthy ways. the guy who had been asking for ¢25 for a third time now hit the wall near the emergency stop pull so hard that one had to be worried he could do something worse than that.

and he walked over to where i was reading.
i could see his heavy shoes.

"i did not want to hurt you." he began relatively loudly.
"i am sorry." louder.
"I DID NOT WANT TO HURT YOU. I DID NOT WANT TO HURT YOU. I DID NOT WANT TO HURT YOU."
"I AM SORRY! I AM SORRY! I AM SORRY!"
"i love you." he whispered.
"i love you." again.
"i love you."

and he repeated these few words over and over and over and over again.
and he screamed and then whispered.
and again.
and. again.

i was so happy whe the train finally stopped at jay street.

the f train was right there.
i walked towards it.

looked back

in the open door of the last car of the c stood a giant man,
his head slightly loweded, his eyes wide open.
his teeth the whitest white thing in his face, right after the
white of his wide open eyes.

"i am sorry"

he said.
even though it was much too loud now for me to hear him.

we had a street musician on the f.

1 comment Tags: subway, new york, brooklyn, c, f, i love you, i did not want to hurt you, i am sorry …

soiling my soul at lunch

  • Oct 11, 2006

held on to the quilt like an old dog asleep at the bite, outside of the window in the rain.


not really.

then there was the water on the ground.

i had to wipe my shoes.

the water. the water.


i like to have lunches in that place downstairs near the lehman brothers building. it is a treat and also a bit of an investment. every single time.

"motorola is looking good. i think i would like to get some of that..." and then it goes up three days later.

it is fascinating to listen in on the conversations around raw fish and other well crafted delicious dishes.

today contained no investment advice. just rather weird mini stories... (at first...)

"so how does it manifest itself?"
"they were mainly just headaches. really strong ones. out of nowhere. and it did not help to sleep or take hot or cold showers. or even trying to stand on my head. it did not help. nothing helped.
so i went to this doctor and he gave me this shot. right into my head."
"and did did he succeed?"
"he succeeded at traumatising me. that’s what he did. and how could i possibly allow this guy to just shoot in my head?"
"but that's the way it goes. you have those headaches and you just want them to go away. so when the guy tells you that he will have to cut off your head. you would be like:'yeah, go ahead' i understand."
"yeah"


"i went to the doctor not so long ago and my doctor was not there, so i had a visit with his partner. and he looks at my history and says: 'oh, i have to tell you that you should prepare yourself for a serious diagnosis."
"cancer? aids?"
"that's what i thought. and then the following week, picking up my blood results. my old doctor is there. and he says that everything is in perfect order. i left that office knowing that i am in perfect health, but i never going back there."
"i understand."




meanwhile on the left hand side. (two broker types.)

"so it is a small firm in nashville. and it is a great opportunity for me."
"you are kidding me" (angrily throws menu on the counter.)
"sorry, i thought you might want to know."
"you obviously knew it for a while. and you did not tell me. i feel so f*cking betrayed now."
"i had to tell you eventually."
"you are leaving me?"
"i had to tell you."
"you will make three times the money?"
"not quite, but the money is worth more there. about a 2:1 ratio."
"-----"
"i did not know you would be this upset."
"-----!"
"i had to move. i can not handle this miserable quality of life here. and besides, you know they will never make me partner."
"------ how much will they pay you there."
"you know how much i am making here."
"180"
"165. you can not survive in new york on 165. and there i am going to get that plus 50% of my salary as my bonus at the end of the year."
"okay then..."

i think that's where i began to feel that i was being punished for listening on other people's conversations.
but how could i not? mr. 180 had his elbow tucked almost between my ribs.
he looked like a tiny insect dressed up in a tight suit.
his bony fingers wrapped around his blinking blackberry.

i hope the green tea washed away the dirty stains off my soul. 
argh...

Tags: money, new york, brokers, sushi lunch

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Witold Riedel
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