It was a cool sun that shone down on Bowery. It was not nearly noon yet, though the streets were already crowded with delivery trucks and taxi cabs. Suddenly, the corner of Chloe's eye caught a red object barreling down towards Grand Street. She turned to look just in time to catch a woman in a red dress tumble off her bike, the contents of her bicycle basket spilling out on the road, chief among them a whole rotisserie chicken, which continued rolling, sans its clear plastic shell, with such force that it hopped the curb and stopped at Chloe's now-stopped feet.
Not sure what the proper social protocol would be in such a situation (that is, one that involves a bicycle accident, some produce, and a rotisserie chicken), she went to help the woman, who appeared to be in her mid-40s, with straight brown hair and a huge straw hat. But she had already gotten up, and so Chloe picked up the herbed bird carcass in her bare hands, its homey fragrance an alien amid the noise and chaos of the street.
She stood there as the woman walked her bike to the curb and sat down there, laboring an exasperated "thank you." Chloe sat down next to her in solidarity, her hands outstretched and dripping with chicken fat, as they both stared in silence into the middle of the street where the taxis and trucks made garbage of the woman's lettuce and Gouda.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Friday, March 13, 2009
strewn owls
Once, Chloe asked Ewan how she and him met (she and him being, of course, not that famous singing duo, but Ewan and his girlfriend, Heather.)
"That's a fine story!"
They were sitting at the bar at Clandestino, awaiting the arrival of said girlfriend.
[How nice it must be, thought Chloe, to be called upon, somewhat regularly, to tell a personal story that is so upliftingly positive, emotionally, for the teller, that his eyes become one thousand percent more bright and his posture that of a proud robin on a spring morning. To say the least, Ewan certainly did enjoy telling the story.]
"The fact that she was once Laurel's roommate was not by accident!.."
"Really?..." [How was Chloe unaware? She had just thought it mere coincidence..]
"Absolutely, you didn't think it was mere coincidence, did you?"
At this, Chloe thought that "mere" was a strange word. After a moment, she thought to answer him, which came out in a rather dejected tone, "yes."
"Well! So, you know that Laurel and I were friends (quite platonic, you understand, for quite some time)..."
[Yes, and I also know that meantime Laurel fell in love with you and your charming ways and still is to this day, much to her detriment.]
"..Well, you see, the first time I came to visit her at her apartment, I had the first inkling of Heather. Laurel played that Magnetic Fields album The Wayward Bus while she made me some dinner. I had asked, ' is this your music?,' because, really, I didn't believe Laurel would be playing Magnetic Fields.."
[It was true, in all honesty, Laurel rather preferred bands like Animal Collective and TV On the Radio. Chloe hated this about Laurel.]
.."And she said, no, it's Heather's. And I thought, 'Heather, who is that?' Heather, who was not home at the time, was, as I quickly discovered, a ghostly roommate, and I did not see her the next ten times I visited Laurel, even though I tried to make it happen. The next time I visited, I peered into Heather's room and caught sight of her guitar hanging on the wall next to her bed, and the various incarnations of owls strewn about her room. I loved the things she owned. The artwork, the furniture, the kitchen utensils, I would come soon to find, were all hers, and I loved it all! And it all just snowballed from there. I believe it was the fourth or fifth time, when I saw that Eric Rohmer VHS sitting on a shelf under the TV, that I felt a strong connection to this person I had never met. I knew that the Rohmer movie wasn't Laurel's, and I didn't even have to ask her this time, because I now felt that I knew Heather, and I was in love. Can you believe it? I could even picture her, without ever having seen a photo of her! I kept this all to myself, you understand, because I wasn't quite sure how to bring it up... So really it's a story not about how we met, but about how I met her."
Chloe was speechless. It must have shown in her face, because Ewan went on... [or maybe it didn't show in her face, and Ewan was as self-centered as Chloe feared him to be...]
"And the craziest part about this whole long, drawn-out story, is that, when I finally met Heather, in human form, not as a summation of all her belongings and tastes, she was exactly as I imagined her. And at that moment, I knew. I knew that there was, and there would be, no one else for me."
And with that, Chloe quickly requested the check from bartender and promptly made a gracious exit out the side door.
"That's a fine story!"
They were sitting at the bar at Clandestino, awaiting the arrival of said girlfriend.
[How nice it must be, thought Chloe, to be called upon, somewhat regularly, to tell a personal story that is so upliftingly positive, emotionally, for the teller, that his eyes become one thousand percent more bright and his posture that of a proud robin on a spring morning. To say the least, Ewan certainly did enjoy telling the story.]
"The fact that she was once Laurel's roommate was not by accident!.."
"Really?..." [How was Chloe unaware? She had just thought it mere coincidence..]
"Absolutely, you didn't think it was mere coincidence, did you?"
At this, Chloe thought that "mere" was a strange word. After a moment, she thought to answer him, which came out in a rather dejected tone, "yes."
"Well! So, you know that Laurel and I were friends (quite platonic, you understand, for quite some time)..."
[Yes, and I also know that meantime Laurel fell in love with you and your charming ways and still is to this day, much to her detriment.]
"..Well, you see, the first time I came to visit her at her apartment, I had the first inkling of Heather. Laurel played that Magnetic Fields album The Wayward Bus while she made me some dinner. I had asked, ' is this your music?,' because, really, I didn't believe Laurel would be playing Magnetic Fields.."
[It was true, in all honesty, Laurel rather preferred bands like Animal Collective and TV On the Radio. Chloe hated this about Laurel.]
.."And she said, no, it's Heather's. And I thought, 'Heather, who is that?' Heather, who was not home at the time, was, as I quickly discovered, a ghostly roommate, and I did not see her the next ten times I visited Laurel, even though I tried to make it happen. The next time I visited, I peered into Heather's room and caught sight of her guitar hanging on the wall next to her bed, and the various incarnations of owls strewn about her room. I loved the things she owned. The artwork, the furniture, the kitchen utensils, I would come soon to find, were all hers, and I loved it all! And it all just snowballed from there. I believe it was the fourth or fifth time, when I saw that Eric Rohmer VHS sitting on a shelf under the TV, that I felt a strong connection to this person I had never met. I knew that the Rohmer movie wasn't Laurel's, and I didn't even have to ask her this time, because I now felt that I knew Heather, and I was in love. Can you believe it? I could even picture her, without ever having seen a photo of her! I kept this all to myself, you understand, because I wasn't quite sure how to bring it up... So really it's a story not about how we met, but about how I met her."
Chloe was speechless. It must have shown in her face, because Ewan went on... [or maybe it didn't show in her face, and Ewan was as self-centered as Chloe feared him to be...]
"And the craziest part about this whole long, drawn-out story, is that, when I finally met Heather, in human form, not as a summation of all her belongings and tastes, she was exactly as I imagined her. And at that moment, I knew. I knew that there was, and there would be, no one else for me."
And with that, Chloe quickly requested the check from bartender and promptly made a gracious exit out the side door.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
red plastic bags
Chloe and Laurel walked down Baxter Street, on the sunny west side. It was a bitingly-cold day and Chloe couldn't wait for it to be over. The compacted ice from the snowstorm had formed islands of peril around every street corner, and Chloe thought it was dreadful. But she had needed to buy these lychees and bok choy, and it was good to get out. Their red plastic shopping bags weighted them down towards the sidewalk, their arms outstretched to form four straight vertical lines.
Laurel suddenly realized it was four o'clock. She needed to "go make her peach cobbler so that it will be ready in time for the seven-thirty dinner party at Jody's house. [pause]... Are you sure you don't want to join us?"
[Just as she said this, Chloe glanced over to catch that expression on her face that said, "I half want you to come because you're my friend, but I half don't want you to come because I only have enough peaches to make a cobbler for six."]
"No, thanks," responded Chloe. "I think I'll have a relaxing night at home with some red wine and shumai dumplings."
"Ah! Another Chloe-evening!," exclaimed Laurel, clearly exhaling a relief-ridden breath. She bade goodbye as she crossed the street into the cold shadows.
The sun was beginning to set and Chloe turned to face south again, to carry on their walk's trajectory alone. "Just to feel the sun on my face, " she said to herself, as if Laurel were still there.
Between Canal and Bayard, next to the State Detention Center, the sunny yellow sidewalk was met with the ominous shadow of the towering courthouse. Here, Chloe spun around on her heel and went home.
Laurel suddenly realized it was four o'clock. She needed to "go make her peach cobbler so that it will be ready in time for the seven-thirty dinner party at Jody's house. [pause]... Are you sure you don't want to join us?"
[Just as she said this, Chloe glanced over to catch that expression on her face that said, "I half want you to come because you're my friend, but I half don't want you to come because I only have enough peaches to make a cobbler for six."]
"No, thanks," responded Chloe. "I think I'll have a relaxing night at home with some red wine and shumai dumplings."
"Ah! Another Chloe-evening!," exclaimed Laurel, clearly exhaling a relief-ridden breath. She bade goodbye as she crossed the street into the cold shadows.
The sun was beginning to set and Chloe turned to face south again, to carry on their walk's trajectory alone. "Just to feel the sun on my face, " she said to herself, as if Laurel were still there.
Between Canal and Bayard, next to the State Detention Center, the sunny yellow sidewalk was met with the ominous shadow of the towering courthouse. Here, Chloe spun around on her heel and went home.
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