Wandering the upper west side for a couple of hours. Feeling decidedly melancholy. Remembering all the things I used to do around here. Stores where I bought radios. Crosswalks I walked over a thousand times. I don’t get nostalgic. I just get old. And lonely.
I had a moment of… something. A homeless looking woman asked a passer by if she could spare any money. A well dressed, immaculately made-up woman standing nearby made her disapproval of the situation obvious from her expression. She said nothing. I turned and saw her profile. All that makeup. As she sustained her look of disapproval a big blob of snot emerged from her nose. She was unaware of it, it seemed.
I saw myself in a mirror at the Trump Tower. I thought “I look like a fucking slob.” I often do but today, maybe on account of the gaudy décor raising vacant hopes of uplift, I really felt the slovenliness represented how I feel. I wondered if anyone remembers me the way I remember occasional individuals from this part of town, and anywhere. Do they talk about “that un
