Empire State of Mind

Woke up meditated....hard time meditating never quite settled myself. The sound of something constantly smacking metal right outside the window. Organized my luggage in Phil's fabulous apartment--everything is so neat and tidy, in its place, easy to find, no muss no fuss. I like that, want that. I have clutter--magazines and books--in my place in San Francisco, you might even label me a hoarder compared to Phil! I prefer calling it "untidy". I realize that having everything in its place is a great way to organize your visitors and a subtle hint as to how things should be kept, as you find them and where you find them. When you come into a messy apartment, you would be most inclined to continue the tradition. You also do not have to worry about people getting too comfortable in your home....make yourself at home, but don't get too comfortable. Subtle and then not really. Of course a complete slob is a complete slob wherever he goes. Great lesson Phil, thanks.

Decide to go across the street for a cup of coffee...actually I really meant to explore around the block, but since it is raining (hence the strange clanging sound of rain beating down on the plastic wrapped air conditioner), it snowed at 3 a.m. and has melted so I decide to go across the street. Dominicanos hanging out in the doorway, a Dominican neighborhood...hello this is the Bronx! Walked into the familiar neighborhood bodega---familiar because they look the same in Harlem, the East Village as they do here. I'm feeling all New York, ask for cup of coffee and a bagel with butter....a slight NYC ghetto-fabulous accent may have even slipped out. The Arab guy behind counter, probably the owner, yells "Pedro, a bagel with butter and a cup of coffee!" He is on the phone as bodega owners usually are, going on in Arabic. Pedro slips off his "stoop", the ice cream counter by the door and makes his way behind the Deli counter lined with Boar's Head baked hams, roasted and smoked turkeys and pastrami. George Michael is on the radio belting out 'last Christmas I gave you my heart' I hardly notice, as I am taking in the scene around me. Another customer walks in, the door bells chime, "Ey! dame una baina...heh, y ponle una bainita ayi!" all the while smiling in Pedro's direction after greeting everyone at the door. George continues, 'but the very next day you gave it away, this year I'll give it to someone special!" Good idea George.

What do I owe you? A dollar fifty as he prattles on in Arabic, still on the phone. Wow, a buck fifty for a bagel with butter and coffee...what a deal, remembering why I like it here. Quickly the illusion is shattered. He places the cup of coffee on the high counter behind the bulletproof glass case that holds the cigarettes and the over the counter drugs...hey..it is not the universal NYC Greek paper cup, the one I went on about last night on 231st street! I keep this to myself and order another coffee for Phil. He is such a gracious host, he's even given me my own set of keys to his place, so for a week or so I will actually live in the Bronx instead of the International Hostel on 103rd and Amsterdam. A completely different experience. Another customer comes in, orders, "A cup of caofey wit 3 sugahs!" as I pay the 75 cent for the extra coffee and the owner puts everything in a paper bag. I start to take them out of the bag, and ask, "did you?....yah two sugars....and milk? yah". I put close up the bag and proceed out the door happy because i remember "Oh yah, the two sugars and milk standard coffee in New York". As i proceed across the street i realize in horror! that means two tablespoons of sugar and milk...in other words four teaspoons! Way too much for my taste...the magic is gone, perfection once again imperfect. Come back inside the building, open the door with my set of keys, take the elevator up after greeting the small Christmas tree in the lobby where we took pictures last night. Doctor the coffee to my liking...add water, a bit of instant and microwave. Sit down at Phil's fabulous iBook to write, unwrap the wax paper around my bagel and to my surprise it has cream cheese! not butter....happy once again. That more than makes up for the undrinkable sugar coffee. Take a bite and guess what, not toasted...I forgot to say toasted. You have to be precise in the Alicia and Jay-Z City, I forgot, delis and coffee carts have this shit down.

Done writing now. Not raining anymore...going out to continue the experience, a blessed experience in the Bronx, must be, i took the time to write about it and hadn't planned on it. I suppose it must be that neurotic empire state of mind. And now on to the next 'moment'.