TWO YEARS IN NEW YORK (Michael Mohr's Fictional NYC Covid Memoir)

Chapter 8 (PAID)

Photo by Robert Bye on Unsplash

Chapter 8

The plan was to meet Sophia at some café on President Street, in Park Slope at 6pm. I had to take the 2 train at Lenox and 125^th, where I almost always got on the train to go downtown (never uptown). I’d ride to Grand Army Plaza, at the northernmost tip of Prospect Park. From there I could walk to the café. (The name of which I no longer recall.)

Here it was: Saturday. If she canceled on me a third time, I told myself, I’ll delete her number and block her on phone and email and forget it all.

In order to get to the 2/3 train on Lenox/125^th I had to walk six blocks, one of which—my block, 130^th—seemed to never end. One of those painfully, epically long New York City blocks. The street was made up on 130^th of side-by-side little brownstone apartments. They all seemed crammed together. A few …