The morning mood of the park-goers is usually quiet and relaxed. Not this day—the energy and volume were at eleven, not ten. Looking back on it now, I realize it was a metaphor for that significant something that was about to happen. So there I was, sitting in the park, half-dead, waiting for the second triple espresso latte to give me life. Blearily reading the paper, I heard a soft raspy voice faintly over the mixture of the loud distorted mess of annoying mosquitoes, car horns, and scattered conversations.
I look around until I make eye contact with a man walking towards me. As I’m looking at him, I notice his attire: rinsed blue jeans and a white t-shirt under a gray black and light blue “Let Freedom Rock” t-shirt. He has lightly tanned skin, blond hair, blue eyes, and debauched good looks. His stature is tall, broad with an average athletic build, kind of like a rock star gone healthy. This dude is cool in my book already. His demeanor screams Reality Bites cast member “All growns’d up,” or better yet, a character straight out of a Dave Eggers novel in the present time.
It’s strange how I automatically notice what a person is wearing, considering I don’t pride myself on being a fashionista. I don’t know why I do it, it’s just one of those habits I’ve always had. As he moves closer towards me, I realize he is also talking to me: “I hope you don’t mind that I took your picture when you sat down.” Unbeknownst to me, “No I don’t mind. Forgive me for not noticing I was a subject. I’m still not quite awake as of yet.” He smiles: “No problem, you mask your tiredness well. Actually you look pretty bright-eyed to me. That’s why I took your picture. You had this sincere smile of peace and happiness.” Now I’m dumbfounded. Me at peace? Let alone happiness of all things after the past months of disarray?
As I was pondering the issues in my head, the stranger asks, “Are you from here?” “Yes, Hewlett, New York, and you?” “I’m from Ossining, New York. By the way, I’m Alex, it’s nice to meet you.” Alex then proceeds to tell me why he is so gleeful these days. He has just been married (damn!) and is on his honeymoon with his wife. I immediately think and tell Alex how I never knew of a couple who had their honeymoon in New York. “Where is the Mrs.?” “She’s still sleeping and it was my wife’s idea for us to have our honeymoon here. We’ve traveled to many places and out of all the spots, New York is our favorite place. She thought it would be unique to have our honeymoon here, so we did.” Now I’m curious—what in god’s name is he doing in the park at 8:45 in the morning instead of snuggling with his new bride? I blurt out just that and he laughs.
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