S-H-A-I

A New York day is comprised of New York Minutes. Here are a few from today.

ACT I



I got FOUR HUGS!! Totally made my day.


ACT II

I met a guy named Shai. S-H-A-I, he said. I noticed him in Union Square, in his fine leather shoes and dress pants narrow enough at the ankle to make him look foreign. He had on a pressed white shirt and navy blues. Investment probably.

Now I have smudges on my glasses and I'm dizzy from the wine. Did I mention he is my type? Tall. Yep. Dark. Yep. Well groomed. Yuh-huh.

Shai was not shy. "Shai" means "present" or "gift" in Hebrew. And he meant to give me one. He kissed me at the wine bar. And if I allowed myself to think back to 20 minutes earlier, on a terraced step at Union Square, when, as we left, I thought, "Huh, walked up. Exchanged pleasantries. Laughed. And left the spot a generous 7 minutes later...looks like a lady-market up here and he just picked his produce," maybe I wouldn't have been surprised by that kiss. Nor by the suggestion we spend the two hours before my next interview at the W Hotel on the corner.


ACT III

I'm underground on my way to the interview. Did I mention how humid and hot it is? I'm sweating like I'm bleeding out my pores.The subway drummer helps ease my mood.

Not so small miracles, the train is air conditioned. A middle-aged white man (MAWM) in Gap jeans, fashionable Tee, wire rimmed glasses and headphones...is rapping.

Across the aisle, impeccably timed, a kid's arm is being tickled by a stranger's open newspaper. He responds.

MAWM: "Gonna kiss this bitch. Gonna hit this bitch."

KID: "That makes me itch."