Recalled Accounts of a Walking Commuter

Let me first preface this post by saying that the following events are true, but will read more like an episode of ABC's Six Degrees. I am in the office now, but since I'm here pretty early, I wanted to record this morning's walk in my blog before I begin to forget the details.

I left my boss's apartment (to reiterate: cat-sitting; not an interoffice affair) in the East Village at 7:45 a.m. and had a deja vu moment with two of her neighbors, who walked into the hallway and waited with me for the elevator in an almost repeat version of waiting-for-the-elevator-yesterday. Me: eating an apple, wearing my "commuter tennis shoes" with my strappy high heels buckled to my purse. Them: in button-up shirts and slacks, reading the business section of The New York Times. I can't tell if they are brothers, a couple or just roommates. Now that the term "metro-sexual" exists, it can be hard to immediately throw pretty boys into their respective gay or straight boxes.

Next began the northbound hike to midtown. Since I chose to walk along East 20th and up Fifth Avenue yesterday, this morning I decided to take an East 23rd Street and Madison Avenue route.

Just before turning onto Madison, I ran into a guy who had hit on me in a grocery store on First Avenue and 21st Street on Sunday. Only today - rather than a cut-off T-shirt and backwards baseball cap, he was wearing a crisp, navy blue suit. I also noticed this time that his eyes are very, very blue.

"C'mon, this is fate!" he laughed. Even though he looked much sexier today than he had in the grocery store, I replied, "Nice try. See you around!"

"Have a great day!" he called after me, to which I called back, "You do the same!"

On Madison and 37th, I paused to take a quick camera phone photo op and almost backed into an older gentleman - also in a business suit. I walked behind him up to 38th Street, where he made a right, and a younger businessman, who was trotting across the crosswalk, yelled to the older gentleman, "Howard! (or maybe he said 'Howie!')"

"He-heyyy!" Howard - or Howie - exclaimed. "Long time no see!"

I continued walking so I didn't hear how the rest of the conversation went, but a few blocks up, I had a "long-time-no-see" run-in of my own. I was crossing Madison on 43rd to enter the rear of our office building between Fifth and Sixth Avenues when I realized I was walking behind my friend Nikki.

"Nikki!" I said. She turned around with the inquisitive-just-before-recognition look. Nikki was a temp with our company for several weeks and does a lot of major party promotion on the side.

"Hey!" she replied. We kissed each other on the cheeks and began walking.

"Katie, you have no idea. I am so hung-over. I went to a Georgia Rule's cast party last night so I was there with Lindsey Lohan, Felicity Huffman ... it was amazing!"

Nikki has the uncanny ability to name-drop without sounding obnoxious. She's been trying to get me to come to her parties for months, but I keep coming up with random excuses. It's not that I don't want to go. I totally do, but it's just that I don't have anything to wear to parties like those (and I think I'm afraid of feeling and looking awkward). Plus I am really trying to put most of my current focus on my new career - at least until I am better established, and most of the celebrity parties are during the week.

Just before Nikki turned to walk up Fifth Avenue, she was telling me about another party she had attended last week with Sex and the City's Jason Lewis (a.k.a. the Absolut Hunk).

"I'll send you the photos," she was saying. "Promise me we're going to get together soon. A girls' night this week or next?"

"I promise," I said to her as we parted ways. I crossed Fifth and continued along West 43rd Street, and thought to myself, this morning is a blog post waiting to happen.