by Chance

...but if you knew the day I'd had and why I can't go home, you would understand why I need to sit here. There was no question, no request, she simply plopped her magazine down on the table and sat. Didn't buy a coffee, who was going to make her. She started to talk, and she did not stop.

Did you know I made my whole career just knowing how to type! RCA on 23rd street; of course, when I came to L.A. with my husband I could get a job anywhere, coming from New York. She grew up in the East Village, with the library on 10th, with her Russian parents making a new life for her, we didn't have brand names then, but of course, my sister always liked the material things. She spoke of how clean the city used to be, how it amazed her that people moved here, what was this, it was all a myth and no place to be. But I'm stuck. I moved back and I can't ever leave, that's how it is. It took an hour before she explained she had bed bugs. She spoke of her friend who lives at the Chelsea Hotel, of her fondness for Dickens, of when Scribner had a store on 5th avenue and you would wear your one coat for years. Equal parts old complaints and New York fire.

If I can tell you just one thing, she said, it is to travel. Don't get married too soon, don't have kids. I'm not sure I'd have them at all now, given the chance. Travel, see the world, enjoy your own life. There'll be time for the rest later. New York is good for the time in between. When you are not too young, not too old. It's amazing.