Thursday I noticed I was repeating things I’d done two, three weeks ago. But now the air is cooler and the trees rustle more as the leaves fall off. I had lunch at Doma and when I looked out the window, there was the painter I’d interviewed a few weeks ago.
Now his painting had morphed, just like he said it would. I think I liked it better in the earlier version. I read some of my book, which is research for my new play. It’s depressing.
The older couple who had sat down next to me were speaking a language I didn’t recognize. I speak French, Russian and a little German, so I am good at recognizing most languages, but this didn’t sound familiar.
Who: Henriette and Vagn Kondsen
Where: Doma, NYC
Occupation: Tourists and parents (today)
Henriette and Vagn tell me that they are visiting New York for two weeks and today they have already been uptown and all over Soho.
“It’s exhausting isn’t it?” I say.
“Oh yes, we are glad to sit down.”
“Do you live here?” Vagn asks me.
“Yes, just over there,” I point.
“You are so lucky. We love the village,” he tells me.
“We are visiting our daughter, but she’s working so much that we barely see her.”
“What does she do?” I say.
“She’s here working on the Obama campaign,” says her mother proudly.
Emma Kondsen came over from Demark to work as a volunteer to get my (crossing fingers) president elected. She’s been here for four months.
“You must be very proud,” I say.
Her parents looked so proud that I think I see tears in their eyes.
“It must be a wonderful thing being a parent,” I say.
“It’s so wonderful,” says her mom.
After pointing them to my favorite neighborhood book store “Three Lives” I went home. My phone rang and it was unknown number.
“Hello,” I say.
“Hi, my name is Michelle and I’m calling from Barack Omama’s campaign.”
No, it wasn’t Michelle Obama, it was just someone named Michelle.
They were looking to see if my husband, who had donated money wanted to volunteer.
“He’s probably too busy,” I say. “But, I’ll do it.”
The last time I helped out with a campaign, the guy won.