I’m on the train the other day on my way to work. A woman I worked with almost twenty years ago gets on and stands in front of me. She doesn’t see me and I look down at my book because I don’t want to make conversation.
We weren’t friends but worked in the same restaurant for about a year. Well enough to remember, long enough ago to forget. I read my book and then looked up, her crotch a foot-and-half away from my face.
We got off at the same stop. She didn’t look at me and I didn’t get the satisfaction of her seeing me but not being able to place the face.
[Drawing by Adrian Tomine]
A NY moment if there ever was one.
I was like, wow, I haven't seen you in fifteen years, you may not remember me, and yet here I am a few feet from your pants. New York is funny like that, right?
That happens to me often enough. All it takes is to avoid eye contact, in a book or gazing furtively into the nothing and you're good. They might notice that you're purposely not noticing, but that's NY. I do it for sport and because I, too do not want to make conversation. Survival.
Played this game a week ago. Getting onto the train, I noticed an old coworker, and so I purposefully sat on the same side of the car so he'd need to catch me in the reflection in order to see me. Didn't work. He immediately called my name several times before waking over to stand over me and make small talk for the rentire ride up.