Two Mornings

At about 10 a.m. two days ago, in an office building less than a mile from my own, a blonde woman eight years my senior was walking into an elevator when, for no imaginable reason, in a split second, it lurched upward and, while two passengers watched helplessly, essentially crushed her to death.

She apparently was an ad executive and a very friendly person, who lived in Brooklyn with her boyfriend, painted in her spare time, and had finally created a backyard garden for herself. 

At about 10 a.m. this morning I left my chiropractor’s office, walked into Barnes & Noble, and, feeling the high of my holiday bonus and the crisp, sunny morning, picked up a copy of Infinite Jest (for my 35 Before 35 list) and one of The Hunger Games, not knowing which I will start first. Then I went to the best sandwich shop on my office’s block and treated myself not only to my favorite breakfast “healthy wrap” of avocado, ham and egg whites, but also a bottle of green machine Naked juice that costs as much as a venti caramel latte at Starbucks, which I will go to later for a grande skim chai.

I stepped into my elevator with no unusual issues, admired my choice of bright blue tights for today in the surrounding mirrors, and for the 39-floor ride that I take every day of every week, thought about how great it feels to be alive.

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3 Responses to Two Mornings

  1. Thanks for this, D. I appreciate someone taking the time to reflect on the new complexity of elevator riding (have done it several times since yesterday morning, and it’s proved to be an, um, layered experience), and also, the joy of rolling around NYC doing mundane shit during the holidays, having not experienced any life-ending elevator-related complications (at one’s own office building.)

  2. Rex Berkshire says:

    wow, a christmas bonus. Must be an NYC phenominon. I guess living in the great concavity has a way of skewing perspective. I went to the links in your piece and enjoyed the randomness of your experiences, I ordered a sandwich at that deli, but cancelled the order when they asked me to pony up 13.95 for a sandwich, There are limits that even I can’t cross. Hope your elevated living doesn’t include elevated ending. I don’t want reporters on my phone asking me about you pre-squish. Enjoy your life every minute you have it. Every morning you can fog a mirror with your breath is a good one.

  3. A thoughtful reminder of the fragility of our existence and what David calls his “potato knish” philosophy (basically – ‘I’ll get to it later’, and then ‘it’ isn’t there anymore).

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