on 101st street.

The Coffee is here, the milk is here too. Breakfast is here. I am in the far corner of the Broadway Restaurant diner and it is a beautiful day. The ladies in the booth next to me talk about their severance pay. I think it was not really big from what they sound like. The friend in Orange glasses over a white baseball cap will have a BLT. The other one will have the eggs scrambled, really well, but not with the potatoes scrambled inside, but on the side. Small apple juices. I am away from the next Airport station, so I will not be able to post this for a little while. PowerBook is back, I have 5:30 hours of battery life ahead of me. Let’s see how the day goes. It is 10:15.
Shall I stay here?, or head for the next Star-Bucks?

A woman with very red (very red) nail polish just sat down in a booth not far from here. She keeps gazing out the window (just tiny glimpses at me, from time to time, just to check if I am still there, maybe?). She seems very melancholic. Except for her left foot. It plays with the flip flop, her toenails the same blood red as her fingernails. I usually do not care for nail polish, but because she is only dressed in a red thin hair band holding together her ponytail, a black t-shirt and these very unusual striped silk shorts, the nail-polish feels a bit like a leftover from a very different kind of wardrobe. So I think that she usually looks different? She has several blue marks on the right thigh, but otherwise no makeup, no earrings. She drinks tea. Milk on the side.
She now froze in a stare. Her head resting on her folded hands. She might be in her early 20’s. There is the foot again. Dancing, as if it were not a part of her. 10:30
Oh, she just got a refill. It is coffee after all that she is drinking.
She now began clapping her hands in slow motion, very slow, very motion. She stopped, she smelled the back of her right hand. Her hands and legs are now folded as she continues to stare.
A western Omelet. Ray toast, dry, she will have ketchup with that, some trouble with the bottle at first. Basically exactly what I was just having.
Not anymore, as she spreads the butter on the toast that turns out to be not rye at all.

It is almost 11... Time for me to leave...