Twenty-Seventh Week

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

The temperature is 100 degrees in Manhattan at lunchtime, so I walked very slowly to Wo Hop upstairs, 17 Mott Street, since lower Mott Street is nearly the closest location for restaurants to the courthouse. I chose upstairs over downstairs, where I ate last week, to save the extra, sweat-inducing steps up and down. I ordered cold sesame noodles, one of my favorite dishes under any circumstances, and appropriate on such a hot day. I nibbled on the fabulous wide, fried noodles dipped in mustard and/or duck sauce while I waited. My first impression of the cold sesame noodles was delight. A medium-sized portion at $4.25, it shimmered with a dark brown sauce. However, after two forkfuls (I did not have the energy for chopsticks), I pushed the dish away and asked the waiter for more water. The sauce should have been white, not brown. It was salty, salted, salt sauce with salt. I was very disappointed and I told the waiter so, declining any alternatives. In fairness, he only charged me one dollar, for the fried noodles and taking up space. I had no argument with that and I will hop back once I learn to say "high blood pressure" in Chinese.

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

I began lunch again with wide, fried noodles and, fortunately, ended it with a good taste in my mouth. Today, with the temperature only at 95 degrees at lunchtime, I went to 69 Restaurant, 69 Bayard Street, that dollar-festooned joint that serves classic New York Chinese food. I ate chow fun, although I was tempted again by cold noodles with sesame sauce. The restaurant was so nicely air conditioned that I thought I could eat hot food comfortably, thus avoiding a replay of yesterday’s lunch.

On the way back to work, I passed through Columbus Park, almost empty at the top of the afternoon because of the heat. Few card games, few Chinese checker/chess games. There was one man dozing on a bench, someone who, once upon a time, I would have called a bum. Of course, I realized that at the time I would have called him a bum, he was still a stock broker at Smith Barney. In any case, a little Chinese man came over to him, a non-Chinese man, and gave him some food. I was touched by this gesture, but all I was carrying was a fortune cookie (you know I refuse to eat them), and I just could not picture giving the poor man dozing on the park bench a fortune cookie. That’s a crazy image, offering an unfortunate human being the distilled wisdom of a Hallmark card. On the other hand, I might have given him the life-affirming message that would have gotten him back on his feet, literally and figuratively, and enabled him to serve humanity by installing cable modems or trading commodity futures at Goldman Sachs.

Thursday, July 8, 2010

Excitement has returned to our local streets as the media gather outside the federal courthouse around the corner to await the appearance of the Russian spies (some or all), who have been living in deep cover in comfortable American suburban settings. They are expected to plead guilty to criminal charges and then be whisked off to downtown Russia, where you probably have trouble getting ESPN, in exchange for one or more American spies now enjoying Vladimir Putin’s hospitality. I have it on good authority, however, that several of the Russians plan to draw on their exposure to American civilization once back home by producing "The Real Housewives of Smolensk." On returning from lunch, I saw 9 trucks with satellite dishes on top, about 10 serious tripod-mounted video cameras, and dozens of people holding microphones, still cameras, note pads and tattered copies of "I Led Three Lives."

Friday, July 9, 2010
I've been taking inventory and realized that I know 5 people born on July 3rd, more than any other date that I can think of: Aryeh G., David G., Carl H., Nate P., and Meredith S. Also, I am friends (in the pre-Facebook sense) with David B., MD, David G., PhD, David McM., PhD, David M., PhD, David B., Esq., David W., Esq., and David P., and you know who you are.
David G., PhD, appears twice which demonstrates how special he is.