I’ve had the good fortune this week to run into a neighbor nearly every single day. Whether just a passing “hello” or an impromptu taco truck meal shared, it was really lovely. This city is starting to feel comfortable in a way that Atlanta or LA never had time to achieve. The last city I lived in where bumping into friends on the street was a common happening was Savannah. So this is how my summer is starting. Recuperating from illness in good weather with warm people.
Last week I was supposed to go to the New York Tech Meetup, which is huge at 600+ people. I got a spot because a few tickets are always given out to employees. I ended up missing it. Just before the event I was biking around the city to find a packaging center to mail some damn tea towels off to Switzerland. It ended with frustrations over Yelp giving poor results (non existent location, a shop who’s owner left for “5 minutes”, and another one closed). The thought of sitting in a huge stadium with hundreds of my peers watching some demos sounded nauseating (I am never one for crowds).
I headed home, consoled only by the thought that I could pick up some fried perogies from the restaurant (who’s name I can’t pronounce) before they closed. (Everything closes too early in Greenpoint) On the way I ran into Z. , who is tired but doing well. Further down Bedford I ran into O. who is more tired and doing less well. He convinced me to join him for a taco truck meal with another friend. In the park, where we ate, a man chanted in that faux-Buddhist sort of way. The chant became the soundtrack to the conversation, and I left feeling a little bit sad but also a little more hopeful for my friend O.
The impromptu moments with friends were more valuable to me than the large event. I valued the contact of three people so much more than a few hundred. Perhaps I’m just a hermit though.