i just did something I have not done in a while. I followed somebody. Headed to Starbucks on 35th Ave. I saw a woman crossing 35th Ave at 30th Street, headed toward 36th Ave. This was not some random woman. I see this person around Astoria a lot. A surprising number of times, really, maybe an average of once a week. She and I worked at the same company about 20 years ago. It was my first real job in New York. We barely knew each other, and I can scarcely remember any encounters with her at work, save for a litany-like speech she delivered about how employees are escorted from the building when they are fired from the company. This was not an idle subject she came upon for no reason. At the time the company was undergoing a “corporate redesign” and a good 30% of the place got fired, this woman included. She was talking about it as if she lamented the good old days when people got fired and were simply asked to leave the building. By 1994 or whenever this happened that little shred of implicit trust was considered quaint, as disgruntled former employees retaliated, one incident leading to the coinage of the infamous term “GOING POSTAL”. The primary meaning for that term is that a fired employee returned to the former workplace and mowed down everyone there with machine gun fire. I’ve read that there is no real association between that term and the US Postal Service, but the USPS somewhat bemusedly does nothing to change the public’s perception.
Besides that speech about being “escorted” from the building the only other connection I had with this individual was that I bought a microwave oven from her. This happened after I responded to a sign she posted in the company cafeteria, or maybe it was copy room, where I think there was a bulletin board intended for such things. I’ve written about that encounter elsewhere. Within moments of my arrival at her apartment in Astoria she called her husband every foul obscenity one could think of in such a short period of time. It is a most unpleasant memory, and the incident took some time for me to fully digest.
I have no interest in communicating with this woman or engaging in pleasantries about our memories of the company at which we worked all those years ago. I have, however, been curious about where she lives. If it is on the same exact street as I then that would make 2 former co-workers from that company who live on my street, as I have seen another person with whom I used to work entering and exiting a house which I safely assume to be her residence.
I was in a mood for some pointless intrigue, and a healthy walk wouldn’t hurt either. this little diversion ended up costing me about 45 minutes, and I think I walked about 4 miles including the return trip after I gave up the hunt.
Seeing this person today walking briskly, purposefully even, I thought she might be headed home. Instead she just kept walking and walking, stopping once in a while to look at something: a swath of graffiti, a building under construction, a large truck having trouble turning a corner. At one point she did a complete 180. That was soon after I started following her and I was not too far behind her, so she actually passed me by before turning right back around. So for a few moments at least she was actually following me, though she seemed oblivious to my existence.
Another thing I remembered about her from that “escorted from the building” litany was how she mentioned she had been with the company for over 20 years, and it had been her only job ever. Whatever math I did in my head put her at about 15 years my senior. Today I would guess her age to be roughly 60, and if that guess is accurate then she walks damn fast for someone her age. I had trouble keeping up while also maintaining a distance from which she would not suspect she was being followed, though as I said she seemed wholly oblivious to my continued presence.
She passed 36th Avenue, then passed 37th Avenue. I started wondering where the hell she thought she was going, a question made more strident by the speed and sense of purposefulness that characterized her gait. There are not many destinations between 37th Ave and Queens Plaza, and the few bars and such places down there did not look like places someone of her profile would inhabit.
Long story short: she was walking to the subway at Queens Plaza, bypassing the nearer stations at 36th. Ave and 39th Ave for what reason I do not know. If there was midday trackwork it should have been finished, as it was after 3pm. I guess she, like I, walks to the Queens Plaza station for the exercise.
I used to follow complete strangers, just for the randomness of discovering something innocuous about a life that I would otherwise never know. I can’t remember anything of substance coming from these little spy jobs but it was fun and filled with possibility. I once saw a woman walk from her apartment on 28th Street near 34th Avenue all the way to a Dunkin’ Donuts on Steinway Street just to get one donut, and then return home. It seemed like a long way to go for a fucking donut but if she was taking a break from some day-long pursuit at home then I guess it served as a breather, with the donut thrown on top as a reward for a hard day’s work.
I find the act of following somebody walking from point A to point B to be calming at times. I don’t think of people who are at places as having made an effort to get there. Or rather the act and discussion of getting there seems strangely shameful. Reference to what happened on your drive to so and so’s birthday party is disrespectful since the means and time spent getting there should serve solely as the means, with anticipation of and attendance at the event the only thought.
I am at the ghetto coffee shop. I’ve been thinking about that meetup yesterday. It has left me feeling strangely anxious. These are people I could seriously be friends with. The Swiss girl seemed like a total sweetheart. The dude was introspective but also kind of a goofball, which was cool. The woman who contacted me and who I assume to be the lead on this project is excellently intelligent and seems to have a broad range of knowledge on lots of disparate matters. A 4th documentarian was supposed to be there but she had to be out of town.
I am not sure what makes me feel so anxious about it except that it felt amazing to talk at length about matters I know very well, experiences I’ve had but probably never shared until now, and to have it all feed into a general discussion about all manner of things. It felt like a mental release to guide these folks around Calvary. They interviewed me at the pub across the street, which was excellently empty and quiet for the recording. By the time the battery in the microphone ran out I was tired from talking but curious and excited to see where this might go. It’s not a near-term project so if I even stay involved it will last for as much as a year. I guess the anxiousness comes from me realizing that this is the life I’m supposed to be living, though collaborative creative work has never been my thing until recently.
Well I am going to go home and think about all this.
