Your Past Really Will Haunt You

As usual, I was simultaneously exhausted and frenzied on my way to work. There seemed to be an abnormal amount of construction, tourists and large masses of people out this morning, which amounted to lots of unnecessary street crossing and crossing back and general pointless maneuvering. Inefficiency (among many things) makes me angry.

When I got off the A at Broadway-Nassau around 9:50am there was the usual surge towards staircases. Since I’m phobic about not holding a rail I have to squeeze into the stream of bodies on the far right side (besides only asses go up and down the left). I’m normally aggressive about forcing my way in but today I let a guy in a beige Members Only-type jacket go in front of me.

It wasn’t until I looked up and saw the curly moptop and wire-framed glasses that I recognized him as the Halitosis Hippy from Portland who I had a random encounter with here in ’99 that caused his family to e-mail numerous times imploring me to remove my post (I was much meaner in my 20s–and I’m still pretty mean–because I refused to take it down. As a concession I changed his surname to the first initial, which when pronounced is his last name anyway. I used to always use full names, mainly out of naïveté, people just didn’t Google themselves and others as much a decade ago).

Egads, I could’ve sworn that I’d seen him in the station at the same time a few weeks ago but thought I was hallucinating. That’s someone I didn’t expect to last in NYC for so long, but the same could be said of myself. So Halitosis Hippy=good luck.

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