mercredi 8 septembre 2010

Wine, a kiss and some crying

New York, September 4, 2010

The sunlight is disappearing finally to give way to the millions of artificial lights flooding the air and everything: coming from buildings, streets, parks to fight the shadows that little by little take control over the city.  They are so bright and there are so many, they look like fireflies in the middle of the dark and it's their turn and they are ready to illuminate the concrete jungle of the NY night. Who remembers there are stars in the sky? In any case nobody needs them! At least not here and certainly not today!
I’m excited because yesterday I suggested to Sophie that instead of “meeting” her at the same time GMT we could instead share our experiences at the same hour but of our own times.

So, it’s 9:01 PM and probably I’m late, but I still can use ‘le quart d’heure Parisien’ as a valid excuse for my tardiness. I’m writing in a blog that has not clear jurisdiction, so I can use what is more convenient for me, right?... Not bad!

I’m interested in walking a little bit for the Lincoln center, The Metropolitan Opera or just go directly to a wine bar that is close by at 80th St., and Amsterdam Ave., in the Upper West Side where a friend of a friend works as a waitress. The whole purpose of proposing to Sophie changing the way of doing things is because I need the perfect alibi to go out and have some drinks. Recently I have changed my drinking patterns and I don’t drink as much as I used to do it but my body the last couple of days is craving for sensations that I know for sure is a cry call for alcohol.

Public transportation is the option then. I know for sure what’s going to be in my veins for a while and that doesn’t mix well with the police in case they caught me driving. And not that I’m a bad driver with a couple of cocktails, glasses of wine or 5 or 6 beers. It’s just because is better not to tempt the devil. Taking the train or a cab not a bus is the most advisable thing. Okay, the cab looks! not so fast.. After boarding one without negotiating the price first “le chauffeur” wants to rip me off.

If people pay the amount of money he is asking without complaining for such a short ride I should become a cab driver.

- I’m sorry Mr Chauffeur, tell me how much I owe you and leave me where ever you can!

And not other option left but the train is what I have to take.

And not time to wandering around and from my train stop I go directly to a Cave? No, to Cava  (if you follow the link you'll know what music they play) where I feel a little shy to take pictures.


No signs of my friend's friend here, I go to the counter because I like counters and I choose a corner because I like corners. Plenty of space in this tiny place. From the menu I ask for a glass of red wine from Spain: Cabernet-Sauvignon tempranillo.

Before finishing the first glass, I’m ordering some French cheese and while I’m there people come and go. Some are very friendly and others not so. The first group was the most interesting. It was a cheerful girl in her thirties, very attractive and two other guys. Looks like this was like the second or third stop in their tour... Without much introductions we soon started talking and laughing. When I was sending an SMS to Sophie she ordered me to stop using the phone and I have to do a little explanation. The cheese arrives and her expression changes. She is very impressed and delighted after I feed her a couple of pieces with my fork... Good things don’t last forever and she has to go...The night is just starting for her.. Oh, those dreadful phone calls!

She leaves but before leaving she kiss my lips. A soft kiss with such tenderness that I’m sure is going to hunt me the remaining of the night.
One or two more glasses of wine and I decide to go home. My sisters are having a barbecue next day which means I don’t have to satisfy all my cravings in one night.

On my way back to the train at one corner and protected by a telephone cabin I heard the cryings of a woman. It seems as if she were talking with someone by phone: her phone or the phone of the cabin. For me there’s nothing more troubling and disturbing than hear a woman cry.  I didn’t know what to do. I continued walking but stopped at the entry of the subway... It was impossible to leave. I went back and passed along the cabin where I could see only her legs: she was like encrusted inside there... I realized there was no way for me to be of any help without scaring her more than the tribulations she must have been enduring. And because I had to go back if I wanted to take the train I just realized by passing near the cabin that she was not there anymore: she suddenly disappeared as if she were swallowed by the strange forces playing in the night.

For some people life in NY is hard, real hard and it could be a little bit of everything but by any means not glamorous at all!

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