Fast Forward Slow Motion

It's interesting the kinds of little encounters that take place in a big city, like New York, that make you realize how slow and fast paced it can simultaneously be.

I take a whole host of trains throughout the day. After a while I don't even notice the faces of the people who pass by me. They sort of blur together to create a mosaic of the city. But every now and then, there's a piece that sticks out.

If I recall correctly, and I may not, a few weeks ago I was waiting for a Main Street-bound 7 to get to my office. Both tracks were empty leaving from Times Square, which is odd, considering it's the first and last stop. As the horde of rushed commuters less than patiently waited for the next train, I was wandering around and this guy caught my eye. It was super early in the morning, before 8:30, and one of those sticky days where if you wait for a train too long, your face is going to melt onto the platform.

He looked just has harried as the rest of them. Pretentiously dressed, of course. Wearing brown shoes, albeit with a brown belt, but yech. Brown. Shudder. He was very exotic looking; dark and I daresay brooding. Meanwhile, I'm standing there in a skirt I could wear on Shabbas, hoping he won't notice me to so I can indulge my eyes from afar. I don't think he did, and even if he did, he didn't seem taken aback. I don't blame him. I know I'm nothing out of the ordinary. However, the plot thickens.

Monday, I was headed downtown after work. I could've taken more than one route to get where I was going, but it just so happened that I ended up in Grand Central. I was waiting for the 6 and I turned my head and lo and behold, I see PrententiouslyDressedExoticLookingMan. No brown accessories for him. His face didn't register right away. Apparently, neither did mine, since he did the most obvious double take I have ever seen anyone do. Not even in regards to me, but in general. It was. Way. Obvious.

And then he kept looking at me! I was like, "Psh, wuheva, I gots places to be, even though you're definitely several years older but still hot." Then, of course, as fate would have it, we ended up standing rightnextoeachother. He was by the door and I was holding onto that pole thing. I could feel his eyes just burning into me. When I had to move my eyes out of necessity from one spot to another and if they happened to cross his face, his eyes were on me. They were just glued. If our eyes met, I would smile and then he would smile.

I started to fiddle with my necklace, one that Harry and Joy picked out for me. It was perfect for those nervous I-don't-know-what-to-do-with-myself-fiddles. As the train lurched into the station we came close to each other. "That's a beautiful necklace," he said in his unplaceable deliciously foreign accent. I thanked him. Part of me hoped he would say something else. Anything. Give me a grunt or something.

It was the longest ride ever. Not in a bad way or a good way. It was just endless with all the tension swirling about. Are these the kinds of encounters that drive people to post on Craigslist's Missed Connections? Everything on that train was super slow motion. It seemed like everyone was taking really deep breaths, and making these fluid-like languorous movements. The cacophony that is New York and that is the 6 train was silenced, but as soon as I stepped one foot onto the ground at my stop, everything flooded back into my ears all at once. I was nearly overwhelmed by the speed of everything.

No, he said nothing more to me and as the train stopped at my station and I was about to leave, I gave him one last look and smiled. I said goodbye and somehow knew for certain that would be the last time I ever saw him.