I haven’t blogged…
But it doesn’t mean anything. Last night my blog was down (I blame the host) and so I couldn’t post. Tonight, the evening just got away from me. But it pains me to let my blog sit idle for more than a day, so I’m writing this short little note to say all is well here in Apartment 2024. My classes are back in full swing, which is wonderful and all-consuming.
I had lunch today at Rachel’s Nosheri on 19th Street. I haven’t gotten a sandwich there and sat at the counter along the window with a book since the first month I moved to Philly. It felt somehow right and complete to do it nearly five years to the day I had done it before. I love Rachel’s, it’s an old fashioned deli in a city that doesn’t have many, and it has the added benefit of being right down the street from me. When Little Pete’s closed their doors, Rachel’s started staying open later and on Sundays, to pick up the slack that they left behind. The neighborhood noticed and loves them for it.
During the hour I sat there today, I spotted at least four people from my building come in. A little old man from the 19th floor came in for a cup of soup, I heard him ask for extra noodles and not too much broth. Two older woman walked in, clutching each other’s arms, so as not to trip on the damp floor, to split a nova bagel. Emilio, a plumber/handyman who lives and works in the building, walked in just as I was leaving. He held the door for me and gave me the most genuine, “Hey, how you doin’” that I’ve gotten all week.
January 24th, 2007 09:47
I love Rachel’s! I don’t know what they do to their egg salad sandwiches, but they’re so good!
March 14th, 2007 13:07
[...] Just as I opened my door, the building manager and Emilio came striding down the hallway and went into Mr. Levine’s apartment. After they passed by, I went down the hall to check in with Mrs. B, who was standing in her doorway with her part-time housekeeper. With her hands on her hips, she slowly shook her head back and forth and shouted in order to be heard over the alarm, “I worry about him.” With a toss of her head, she indicated that she was talking about Mr. Levine. I nodded agreement and shrugged my shoulders helplessly. Just then Emilio came out and yelled that there was nothing to worry about and we could go back to our apartments. That it was just badly burnt toast. The few small clusters of neighbors that had gathered in the hallway by the elevators dissolved, and everyone returned home. [...]