Monday, October 23, 2017


The doge, having pooped once already on this, the final walk of the evening, has decided, after I've already bagged up her refuse and thrown it away, that she's still got one in the chamber, so I wait patiently as she squats beside the tree, and I pull out another bag with a resigned sigh.

A kid on a bike rides by carrying a large, metal chair over one shoulder, steering with his one free hand, and riding down the middle of the street with the insolent grace of youth.

He takes us all in at once - me and the dog, me standing by, the dog in her not-entirely-dignified pose, - locks eyes with me, and favors us with a grin.

"I get shit done," he says, and pedals away, through the red light, to vanish into the Brooklyn night.
One year ago: (Another) Brief Encounter
Two years ago: Doggie Facebook
Three years ago: Candy (Sour)
Four years ago: Far Away
Seven year ago: Fall Arrives - We Fight Off The Chill

Sunday, October 22, 2017

The Cleaning Lady Out Is Out Sick

"It's amazing how quickly our house can go from clean to pig-sty," Katie says, rummaging around in the kitchen.

"I resent that," I say.


"Pigs are very clean animals."
One year ago: Here Come The Cold Jets
Two years ago: Mundane
Three years ago: Sunset (Bitter)
Four years ago: Magic Is Just Spending More Time On Something Than Any Reasonable Person Would
Seven years ago: The Days Are Long, But The Years Are Short

Saturday, October 21, 2017

Don't Get Murdered

The long, empty halls of the storage space, with their flickering fluorescent lights and exposed duct work, are a little unnerving. 

More unnerving, though, is the guy sitting quietly in the storage space next to ours, with his legs poking out into the hall, eating a banana - nothing else, just eating a banana.

He doesn't say anything, but gets up and leaves, and I go about my business. 

The motion detectors get bored, though, and the lights in the place automatically shut off, plunging me into darkness so that, for just a second, I wonder if he's out there, waiting for me.
One year ago: More Than A Server
Two years ago: Delayed
Three years ago: Healthy Eating (Salt)

Friday, October 20, 2017

Check My Work

I come out of the bathroom at the cocktail party with the front of my shirt almost completely wet, but it looks like I got the wine stain out. I try to decide if I should be embarrassed or not, shrug, and figure no one is really paying that close attention anyway.

"I think I got it," I tell Katie a little later when I find her admiring a painting.

"I would have spent the rest of the night scrubbing it out if you hadn't," she says seriously after checking my work.
One year ago: Right Of Way
Two years ago: Accelerate Out Of Danger
Three years ago: The Antique Shop (Umami)
Four years ago: Clowns Are Nothing To Worry About

Wednesday, October 18, 2017

House Of Many Dogs

Both the dog and I stumble blearily to the door for her morning walk. When I open the door, though, I hear an exclamation from downstairs that stops us in our tracks. 

Up the stairs comes a scampering streak of a small black dog named Val, and she blazes past the frozen, stiff-legged Coco (who gives me a look like, "Are you kidding me with this shit?"), to go sniffing around our apartment, tail wagging mischievously.

Our downstairs neighbor comes running up the stairs after his dog, and I scoop Val up with a smile to pass her back to her mildly embarrassed owner.
Two years ago: Jealous Again
Three years ago: Bitter/Sweet
Four years ago: Saved

A Nice Walk Saved

I'm stuck on the final scene in my story, so I take a walk down Prospect Park West to try to dislodge my thoughts, strolling beneath bowering trees, light playing between the leaves, talking to myself, making brilliant points and discarding them again.

And since I'm already at 8th Street, I might as well walk the rest of the way down to 9th Street and back over to 7th Avenue to my favorite donut shop, because I deserve a damn donut.

Then, walking back up 7th Avenue with my donut nestled in its curled up white paper bag, admiring the lovely day I seem to be having, I think how great it would be to have an errand to run, to justify my long detour around the neighborhood.

With a gasp and a cold thrill in my stomach, I suddenly recall my morning conversation with Katie, that I actually DO have an errand to run, and I only barely remembered before I got home and missed it.
One year ago: Big Bird
Two years ago: Marry Your Opposite
Three years ago: A Metaphor For So-Called Post-Racial Discourse In America
Four years ago: Is There a (Cat) Ghost In My House?

Monday, October 16, 2017

Special Delivery

"The boxes are here, aren't they?" I say as Katie picks up the phone.

"Great! And you're downstairs?" she says to the delivery guy on the other end of the line with a smile/grimace, nodding.

"Well, guess I'll go put on pants," I say.
One year ago: Rigid
Two years ago: We'll Do It Live
Three years ago: Another World
Four years ago: Literally Full of It