Tonight represents a real New York City changing of the guard.
I'm holding two varieties of shredder in that photo. One is a document shredder, defeated by the last eight years of Benney's pay stubs. The other is my dad's old sled that I left uptown when I moved, for snowy days at Central Park. I got some funny looks carrying that home on the train tonight.
Ever the narcissist, on my way to see Miss Benney tonight I took a moment to make it all about me and go for a stroll down memory lane, also known as West 86th Street. I started almost at Riverside, at the Dexter House, now apparently the Dexter House Hotel.
This was the first place I lived, pre-Elizabeth. I don't remember "Hotel" being part of the name when I slept on a Murphy bed, cooked on a hot plate and shared a bathroom in the hall with the cast from a Joseph Mitchell story. It looks pretty nice now, but let me tell you...when I found my bedroom at Miss Benney's place I think I cried tears of joy.
Here's a photo I took that first winter on West 86th Street. I must have taken this out of the Dexter House's (public hallway) bathroom window, cause the one in my room was about eight inches from a brick wall. It would not be an exaggeration to say the city was a cold lonely place before I met Miss Benney.
She gave me the keys the day I met her in her little sage green kitchen, and before long we had made her terrace into a tomato plantation.
There's my sweet friend Tianna, who visited from D.C. a few years ago. She was one of many who slept in the loft above Elizabeth's room--a little nook with a mattress, quilt and lamp for those far from home, both literally and figuratively. Elizabeth kept watch over us all from her bed below in her green room.
Goodnight, diner. Goodnight, cab.
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