From Gramercy to Chelsea

26 10 2009

Mary did come over the next day. She took pictures of Barry in Gramercy Park, the little green space with an awesome view of the Chrysler Building, particularly at night.

gramercy

Gramercy Park

One night, one of Barry’s friends from Brooklyn came to visit. I was not invited to share in their dinner, but we did get to walk through Gramercy Park together before parting ways.

Barry’s gentleman-caller was around my age and build like a power forward for the New York Knicks. The three of us shared a glass of wine before dinner.

The Brooklyn chap laughed at some of my jokes, but when Barry wasn’t looking, he sneered at me in disgust.

In a possessive manner.

So Barry was his tonight and I went off to explore the City some more. There was this one place on the West Side, the Chelsea International Hostel, that I really wanted to check out.

I had stayed at the Chelsea Hostel before, during a previous visit to the City. That time I traveled with Warren and we switched from the dorm room after the first night, at my behest, of course.

I was on my own this time. That’s what this entire trip was all about. My parents had made it quite clear no more financial support was coming from them. Warren had long since tapped out. Even my best friend of the last five years was moving away — not physically movng out of Panama City — but moving mentally away from my downward spiral.

The hostel would have to wait a week.

Tonight I would meet up with a young man from my not-so-distant past. We shared a lover and had somewhat similar political views. I reached out to him with a text message after landing at LaGuardia.

“What brings you to New York City, John,” he asked.

“Delta,” I texted back.

Why Omar answered my reply is a shining testament to his character as a human being. We would indeed meet during my time in New York and it would be a lesson, I think, for the both of us.

A lesson in forgiveness and humility.

So as Barry and his Brooklyn date departed through the park, I went down to Prince Street. A bustling section of what was once dubbed “Little Italy” only the Italians, it appears, have headed for higher ground.

Omar was working here, as a server at a trendy restaurant.

The Manhattan Bistro.

My next employer.

Stay tuned!!!!!

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One response

26 10 2009
David Altermatt

John,

This is really good. Your layering is great.

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