Friday, July 19, 2024

The Way To A Woman’s Heart

“We have 7 different types of gnocchi, and 25 different sauces,” our waiter tells us, “so to try every type, you would have to visit us twice a day, every day, for a year.”

“I’d practically live here!” Katie exclaims.

“We’d be working each others shifts,” the waiter replies with a smile.

“Hey, buddy,” I mock-growl, “that’s my wife you’re talking to.”

Thursday, July 18, 2024

Not the first time he’s used it

One of the assistants in the operating room comes up as they’re prepping me. “My name’s Noel, not the the first but the greatest,” he says by way of introduction.

“That’s a pretty good line,” I say.

“Did you hear that?” he says with a grin as the entire surgical suite staff groans. 

Tuesday, July 16, 2024

Killing The Killer

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a tiny fly in the air above the couch where I’m writing. When I look directly at it, though, it’s gone.

I catch a glimpse of it again, so when I see something moving on my chest, I react without thinking and smack it.

When I lift my hand, though, I realize it’s not a fly that I’ve killed, but a spider, and my heart sinks.


“Your wife has a studio!?” my physical therapist asks. He’s usually very calm, but something about my mention of Katie’s art studio has gotten him excited.

He watches me intently as I explain her workspace and her business. “I’ve never talked to anybody here about this,” he says shyly after I’ve finished, “but outside of work, my real interest…, my passion, is photography.”

Sunday, July 14, 2024

Slow day

The guy on the e-bike pulls in front of me as I turn on to Sixth. I follow behind him for a bit, my excessive politeness keeping my natural competitive streak in check, but finally I just can’t stand it anymore.

I push on the accelerator and pull wide around him. There’s no traffic, and no problems, I just zip around him and it feels good to not worry about what other people think.


We’re waiting for the light under the BQE when Katie points to a car parked on the sidewalk across the street.

The parking job is a real dick-move: it’s unnecessary (a summer weekend in NYC means everyone is out of town, leaving plenty of spaces and no need to park on the actual sidewalk) and completely inconsiderate in the way that it takes up so much room that it blocks anyone from actually being able to walk on the sidewalk without having to go into the street. Plus the car has this very aggressively macho-muscle-car look to it, with a gray paint job and dark, dark tinted windows.

“That’s a cop,” Katie says, and then repeats it: “That’s a cop.”

Friday, July 12, 2024

The Law of Attraction

As we coast down the hill toward the intersection, I wish for a green light and, way down at end of the block, as if in response to my wish, the light obediently turns green. I also know, with absolute certainty, that we’ll make it through no problem, and sure enough we slip through, barely even slowing down, only to be caught at the next long stoplight a block later.

When I mention how much I love catching a green, she agrees, adding, “But I’m sure that’s gonna be the intersection where I get straight-up t-boned from somebody just ploughing through a red light.”

“Yeah, let’s not manifest any unwanted experiences in our lives,” I say, nodding ruefully.