OK, so I’m only a tiny bit shamed to admit I read the Metropolitan Diary in the New York Times every Monday. For those of you who don’t know it, the Diary consist of short vignettes about life in New York; perhaps a random experience on the Subway or a unique situation with a stranger, only in New York. Some are sappier than Lance’s twitter feed, some are great. This morning I read one that I thought was great

I bicycle along the East River bike path every morning before dawn. I often see the same homeless people just north of East River Park between the F.D.R. Drive and the river. Since it is usually dark, I never make any contact with them and I assume they are sleeping. They never say a word.

Between some vacation time and needing a break, I recently did not ride for a two-week period. On my first predawn ride after returning, I rode past a man wrapped on a blanket, slumped on a bench.

Just as I was about to pass him, a loud voice boomed out, “Hey man, where you been? I was worried about you.”

I said I had been on vacation, and he simply said, “O.K., glad you didn’t get hurt.”

The next morning I rode past the same person; he said nothing and has said nothing since.

Forest Markowitz

This entry was posted on Monday, December 8th, 2008 at 8:28 am and is filed under Whatchoo talkin' 'bout, Scot?. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.