Tuesday, October 31, 2006

Request Challenge 2: Hey, Remember?

I’m not sure whether it’s the chicken or the egg in the philosophical adage of my life, but I tend to see myself as a character in some sort of narrative. I am also melodramatic and kind of sentimental. See? Which came first?

Either way, if you’ve met me you’re a character. Font size on the marquee may vary, but everyone gets a credit—even if it’s just “Unconscious Kid At Annex #4.” Even people I’ve never truly met are characters, and my thoughts about them begin with a “Meanwhile…” and an abrupt camera cut to wherever my virtual co-stars may live.

I’m supposed to talk about someone I haven’t thought of in a while, but the truth is I’m basically always thinking about people I’ve met and haven’t seen in years. It’s purely in the interest of narrative cohesion that I have to know how the lacrosse player I loved in high school turned out, and therefore google old yearbook names well into the wee hours of the morning. Is he a doctor? Is he a teacher? Is he bald? Do I care? These are important plot points for later development. Not because my crushes endure with all the staying power of Cher. Just plot.

There was a specific request to talk about the Hot Dad, my commuting crossword buddy of yore, but I’ve sadly got nothing to report. I never saw him again after I stopped taking the Metro-North, but this doesn’t stop me from thinking about him in the afternoons on the way home via F train. The subways aren’t just bereft of camaraderie. They’re openly hostile. Try striking up a friendship when you’re sitting between someone mouthing words from a tiny prayer book and a Yuppie With New Yorker (YwNY…can we pronounce this “whiney?” Please?).

This is a challenge, though. Who haven’t I thought about in a while?

I don’t know what this says about me, but former Secretary of State Warren Christopher is the first to come to mind.

Maybe this is why I don’t make friends on the train.

1 Comments:

Anonymous stupidboy said...

Thank you!
It's a bit of a shock to read you never saw HotDad again. I figured you'd stopped writing about him because you'd become friends and coyly told him about your blog.

1:42 PM  

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