New York Minuet

Dianna has been polluting the discourse on Cementhorizon lately with her tales of sunny Pacific Northwest friendliness. In an effort to clean up the fetid, cheerful mess she has left behind, the bloggy equivalent of a Superfund site littered with good-nature and high-spirits, I present the following tale of an encounter I had this morning in New York City:

It's my last week on the job at The Firm. I'm wrapping up one last project before I leave, writing a chapter for a book The Firm is publishing. This morning I attended an informal meeting with the other interns working on the book. After a brief chat I headed back down the stairs to my office. On the way down I started talking to one of my fellow interns who was at the meeting. I'd never seen her around before, but I'm not super-social so I didn't think too much of it.

She got off on the same floor as me. There aren't a lot of interns on my floor, so this was somewhat unusual. We kept walking.

She works in the office immediately next to mine.

We were still engaged in conversation when we reached our offices. I asked where she goes to school. "Columbia." We had the same professors, took the same classes, and didn't know each other.

The conversation next turned, as it inevitably does in New York City, to housing. "Where do you live?" she asked.

"116th."

"Oh, I'm on 113th! What's the cross-street?"

"About halfway between Lexington and Lennox."

"Really? That's where I am. I'm in 685."

"...I live in 685 too."

"Get out! What floor are you on?"

"The fifth floor."

"Really?! What apartment number?"

"56."

"I'm in 55! We live next door to each other!"

We've been living next door to each other for two years, attend the same school, went to the same classes, and worked for the same law firm in offices that are right next to each other, and I didn't even know who she was until today.

And on top of that, I still don't actually know what her name is. And hopefully she doesn't know mine; there's only so far you can trust people, even co-workers/classmates/buildingmates. In fact, especially co-workers/classmates/buildingmates.

Note: I've changed all the numbers and names above related to my address. Thus, why it won't make sense if you try plugging it into Google Maps.

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This page contains a single entry by Zach published on August 1, 2007 6:41 PM.

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