– There were some heavy layoffs at my company. My job is unaffected, though my office is now all but empty. I essentially have an entire wing of the 45th floor of a Midtown skyscraper to myself. It’s very surreal. Word is that they’re trying to find a sublet for the place, but the lease is set for something like seven years and the owners will only rent the whole floor (instead of subdividing it). So I could be there for awhile.
The day was unnaturally warm and foggy. Swish and I had plans to watch the Bulls game, so after work I decided to walk from the office to his apartment on the Upper East Side. It took about 90 minutes. The first leg was straight up through Midtown, an annoying 20 blocks of red lights and gawking tourists. What is the attraction of Times Square? The jumbotrons playing advertisements? Or is it just the only place people have heard of to go? I don’t know. I regretted that my smokes were in the pocket of my jacket back home.
Eventually the crowds thinned out and it started to smell like horse shit and I entered the southwest corner of Central Park. I walked more or less diagonally through the park up to 82nd street. It was foggy and dark and it would have been pretty spooky, except that it was only like 6 p.m. I had a great time! So many little tunnels and crisscrossing paths and old trees. I eventually stumbled into a sprawling view of the Bethesda Fountain, which, emptied, looked like an ancient ruin in the low light. I talked to my aunt on the phone. She told me I need to find plans for Thanksgiving, that I should force my way into a friend’s home if need be. We’ll see.
I left the park and walked past the Met. Such an enormous and beautiful building. Then one last mile east to Yorkville. I grabbed some pumpkin beers. Swish ordered pizza. I ate a truly stupid amount. The Bulls won, and Derrick Rose played great. I took the train home, drank three glasses of water, and hit the sack.