a good train ride

it started with two hot preppy guys getting on the train at my
washington heights station. the oddity of this will be missed on many
but suffice it to say that there are not very many hot people at all
in my neighborhood, much less preppy young white ones. i will note,
however, that my hood is definitely on the up and up. i saw a skinny
billyburg hipster-looking guy in my laundromat last week. it seems the
poor artists might have discovered the cheapness and lovliness that is
WaHi. maybe my neighborhood will become the new "it" place. that would
be cool, until people realize how many good-looking trendy things are
gravitating here and all the rents skyrocket until we're all priced
out of the market. that would suck.

then while on the train down, a fabulous woman came and sat next to
me. actually, she pretty much sat on top of me in an otherwise empty
car. when i looked over, she was looking at me and had apparently sat
there to get my attention as the first thing out of her mouth was, "we
have the same bag!" and sure enough, we both had different versions of
the same very expensive designer bag (which I, of course paid a
fraction of what she paid...i know this because i got a super discount
and hers was just out from the current season). so we bonded over
$1100 bags, all the while i could tell i was getting better looking to
super-preppy sitting across from us. and i felt so "new york" with my
expensive things, my knowledge of nyc chefs, discussing paris fashion
shows. in reality, i'm a poor person living in a run-down building
(often sans heat), not yet successful, and not nearly as worldy as i'd
like, but for the moment i was a star.

as we chatted i kind of wanted to take her on as a mentor/mother
figure. i taught her how to use the maps function on her new iphone.
"i want to be this woman when i'm older" was the constant thought
running through my head.

but as is frequent on the transient nature of subway riders, super-
preppy, older fabulous woman and i all went our separate ways on
separate stops without trading contact information. talk about a
series of tragic missed connections...