The Nicest Place on Earth

This morning I had to run to catch my bus. Actually "run" is the wrong word. The Pain prevented me from breaking into a full out sprint. I jogged? hopped? pranced? up to the bus. The driver was gracious enough to wait for me. I got on and flopped into a seat in the rear. We drove for two blocks before hitting the next stop where the driver waited once again as a breathless teenage girl ran down the block to catch us. She climbed into the bus, passed the driver without paying the fare, walked straight up to me and handed me my cellphone. It must have fallen out of my pocket while I was skipping? power walking? galloping? for the bus. The girl ran the two blocks between stops just so she could return my phone to me. I thanked her, and she turned around and got off. So, for proving that New York City is in fact the politest city in the world, this young samaritan gets The New Yorker of the Month Award for the month of May 2007.

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Dear Guy Who I Was Friends With in College,

Look, you don't have to sign off every time you see me sign on to AIM. Having seen you do so so many times I've kind of gotten the hint. In fact, I haven't even attempted to contact you in almost two years because I've surmised that you are not interested in speaking to me. I don't know why, but I'm willing to respect your decision whatever the reason.

So don't run and hide the next time you see my screen name on your friends list. I'm not gonna try to strike up a conversation, I won't even acknowledge your existence. It's oooookaaaaay.

Oh and ya know, if you really don't want to have anything to do with me, just block me on your friends list. Jeez.

Love,

Me