I went out to run errands this morning. I walked up Kent Avenue to N 7th Street to Bedford to N 4th Street to the King’s Pharmacy. I dropped of a prescription for a new set of balls. Afterwards, I stopped in the bagel place near 7th and Bedford to get a buttered sesame bagel and iced coffee. Mmm yummy. I walked back to Greenpoint, eating my bagel, drinking my coffee. I passed Eric the painter on the sidewalk on Wythe Avenue. He didn’t look angry today and seemed to even have a spring in his step. He looked away when he got close enough to question if I looked familiar or not. I see that dude all the time in Greenpoint. He never recognizes me. Or maybe he recognizes me and pretends not to. Or maybe we just have a mutual apathy for each other. It’s just weird that I see him all the time. I guess not so weird… we do live in the same neighborhood. I also passed my mailman on the street. He is a wiry little Chinese man with no front teeth. He grinned his toothless grin at me but did not reply when I said “Good morning”. I went to the Radio Shack and spoke at length with a saleswoman about DSL splitters. I purchased one. She thought I was making a bad decision and reassured me that I could come back and get a refund for up to 30 days after the purchase. I went to the grocery and got some juice and paper and some grapes. The Polish cashiers there never make eye contact and never reply when you say “Hello” or “Thank you”. On my way back to the apartment, coming up the stairs of the stoop outside the building, I noticed a small light-colored blemish on the glass of the vestibule doors. Hmm. Wait. It’s not on the glass, it’s on the reflection in the glass. Oh shit, it’s on my face. Oh shit, it’s a well-buttered sesame seed.
