Sunday, June 04, 2006

Catatonic

When I got off the train in Brooklyn last night at roughly a million o'clock, the only other person on the street was this skittish old woman dragging one of those wheely grocery carts behind her. When I came out of the station she was halfway down the next block, frozen, staring at a cat that was also frozen, staring at her. I felt like I'd walked into some pathetic, lonely rewrite of the showdown at the OK Corral.

She wheeled off when she saw me coming, but stopped a little further down the street when she spotted another stray cat. She produced a container of food from her little cart--not a tin of catfood, either, like, a prepared take-out container of home cookin'--put it down on the ground, wheeled a short distance away and froze, waiting to see if the cat would eat.

This kept all the way down the street until she hung a right and I kept walking toward home, and it was too sad to be funny, too funny to be sad, and too strange to forget. This seventy year old woman takes it upon herself to cook up dinner for the ten thousand stray cats in my neighborhood and hand deliver it at three-thirty in the morning. On the one hand, this is very nice of her. On the other hand, I have this tiny suspicion she's the kind of martyr who rolls her eyes and pushes "door close" in the elevator after every person gets off on their floor, because someone has to press the button and move this goddamn elevator along, and if she doesn't do it, who will? WHO WILL? (Full disclosure: I have been this person when I am really hungry or really have to pee.)

But then, on the third hand (foot?), it's so depressing it causes me physical pain.

It seems like the times of year I feel most lonely are the times when I can walk outside at night, and I wonder if it's just the tropes of romantic comedy that make me feel that way. Jon Cusack never stood outside anyone's window in snowpants and a ski cap.

2 Comments:

Blogger Adrian L. Acosta said...

Why is it that every time I read your blog I laugh while crying? you know, like when you are crying and then someone says something funny and you start laughing as your cheeks are still wet, and you slap them on the leg telling them to "stop, don't make me laugh."

Yeah, something like that.

What I'm trying to say is that I like your shit.

8:55 AM  
Anonymous anonymous mom said...

well, he woulda. if only he knew you!

2:22 PM  

Post a Comment

<< Home

Site Meter Blogarama - The Blog Directory