VIGNETTE 8

After a short series of text message dares, they agreed to meet at Sunset Diner in the morning. Sunset diner is the kind of place Quentin Tarantino would prefer, making it nonthreatening for a Williamsburg first date. At 1pm it was totally packed. She walked in and all the hipster eyes did a once over, then went back to their hangover breakfast plates.
3 minutes later he walked in from the rain, wool hat soaked through. He had coffee and eggs benedict, she had chamomile tea, scrambled eggs and bacon. He was charming, they spoke about recording, music, and the easy things. He kept looking straight in her eyes.
"Want to walk?"
"Okay"
East River State Park- its somewhere to see the city and pretend the water isn't debris lined and the cobblestone is charming, instead of dangerously haphazard. They walked and looked and pretended it was nice, she turned away from his eyes because she knew things were going well.
The rain started coming down again, and they headed toward the Duane Reade to hide for a minute. Gentrification along Kent Ave helps in situations like this. 5 years ago there would have been no where to take shelter, but now all your modern convenience is within reach in Williamsburg. I heard they are even building an IHOP soon. It started pouring harder so they ran, there was an indent in the side of a cement megalith apartment building to their right. It was the only place close enough to duck for cover.
They stood close and she could see he had blue eyes. He pushed wet hair away from her forehead. She thought, "Oh no, this is a moment, I got caught." She kept her hands in her pockets but it was too late. He kissed her softly, politely, gently. She let her hands out of her pockets and kissed him back.
Later he played the Clientele for her because he knew her story with them. The light painted on his face turned from gold to blue in the time they were there together. Talking about children, tree houses, New York, moving in and out of sleep, they kissed with their eyes open.

VIGNETTE 7

I got a call from him when I was waiting for him on the porch, I knew it couldn't be good. He told me it was a hit and run, and that he just needed me to carry the bike. No ambulance or anything. I ran and met him at the G stop, he was swerving side to side on the sidewalk. We passed a group of thug types that were loitering on the corner (I say types because they weren't really thugs). They acted all tough and tried to talk to andrew and sell him coke, he just got up in their face and asked for bandages and showed them his hand spilling blood. They moved away. Then some bike kid with stretched earlobes was like "just go home and clean the fuck out of that".....Thanks...i guess??. Seriously - No bodegas had first aid kits, we resorted to even asking at a laundromat. It was a mess of a walk home, it was like we were in a ghetto, oh wait, isn't that a synonym for Greenpoint? Except in a ghetto I'm sure you would pay less for an apartment.

vignette 6 (I love New York)

She rushed in a cab to make it in time to the reading in Ft. Greene. Up a winding whitewashed staircase and onto the polished wood floor she stepped quietly as not to interrupt the reader, who was just finishing her first person story. She was late, but noticed her friend and they sat together in the front row at the pause between readers. The short essays were good, the last 2 were the best and the most risque. She listened in support as her friend read aloud, when midway through the story a man sat next to her. He was late as well. She glanced over and recognized the disheveled salt and pepper hair and glasses. It was Ira Glass. The story ended, the hostess thanked everyone, and then it was out for drinks. The group comprised of about 7 people, all writers, all the kind of people that take delight in noticing funny details. The conversation topics ranged from fraternity boys, to nose bleeds. At one point Ira held her arm and said that she looked like someone he knew in Chicago that was pure evil. The girls asked if she wanted to skateboard on Saturday. One man had the perfect feathery pompadour and ate in a clockwise pattern. Mrs. Glass had noteworthy eyebrows, black frame glasses, and a huge smile. She talked about loving to teach teenagers and going back to grad school. At 11pm they all said goodnight outside the German bar on Fulton. The cars kept driving, the trains kept running, the rain kept falling.

vignette 5

A guy and a girl in an old empty catholic church, stained glass, pigeons, benches, ornate molding, rickety stairs. Then there's the balcony, a secret balcony. She plays the drums, he plays the guitar, she plays the piano while he tries to make his guitar sound like a spaceship synth. The conversation lasts 2 hours, he makes fun of the faces she makes, he gets excited about equipment that she doesn't understand. He admits to being a romantic. She tries to explain why she's afraid of aliens and not ghosts. Knobs and cords and pedals are strewn everywhere, an accordion lays in the corner with a broken key. The sun goes down and 2 small lights come on. They walk home to their separate apartments and call it a night.

vignette 4

5 Leaves is a restaurant that was once co-owned by Heath Ledger, it's right on the border of Williamsburg and Greenpoint. She was a little late getting to dinner, he met her there and waited outside. He asked a lot of questions and she ended up talking mostly about herself. He talked about architecture theory and what happens when art is hindered or complimented by function. She asked about what he thinks its like to live in a postmodern world, in a generation that still reaches so for Utopian modernism. She is 26 and working in photography, he is 32 and getting his ph.D. upstate. Dinner was better than expected, mussels, cheese, bread, portuguese wine. The table was small and their knees kept hitting eachother. It was hard to hear. Afterward they went to a party on a 2nd Avenue rooftop. It was a whirlwind of hellos, he was quiet, she introduced him politely. It rained in the city but was dry in Brooklyn. They hugged goodbye on the train home and got off at different stops on the L.

separation

Awake at night, church in the morning. Walking the bridge its all the same.

vignette 3

I was walking across an empty rainy Williamsburg Bridge at midnight, and came across a drummer. He sat at a full drum set, playing to the sounds of the city. No basket for money, it was just his practice space. Above the cars and the J train, misty raindrops fell on us. We mutually smiled, I kept walking, and he kept playing.

vignette 1

Friday night I caught a short handsome man in a sweatsuit looking at my shoes. I wanted to be sure so I danced a little, walked a little, and sure enough he was still watching. I got on the train and stood next to him. He burst into a big smile and a thick Italian accent and told me they were the best shoes he had ever seen. I was getting out a piece of paper to write where I had got them, when I accidentally fell onto a 7 foot man with long curly metal hair. I said sorry, and he said, "It's alright, your shoes are really awesome."