And so, commuting in the subway, seems to end.
While still writing the last note, I met Saj.
Or better, he met me. A kind Sri-Lanka young guy. After a brief talk, he looked to me like a safe person with whom to have a dinner. And he even wanted to pay for me. Malaysian food. He talked immediately about the health problems he had, including depression. I'm sorry for him, but I admire the courage ha has in talking about such private things to an extraneous.
A little bitter, though, when he said that it was his pleasure to pay for the dinner, because he had thus "a person to talk with". I would have dinner with him without that.
He comes from Toronto: he has begun to study medicine there, and interrupted for his desease. And now spends 5 days at his uncle's place in NYC.
He wants to take me out tomorrow to a jazz club, the "Cutting..." something. But I have time limits: in the night, I have to head Princeton... and I can't show up in the middle of the night at Irina's! But I'd like to.
We'll figure it out.
Saj 718 443 0959
After dinner, looking for the subway station, I couldn't miss the picture with the "Little Italy" red-white-green water dispenser.
And so, commuting in the subway, seems to end.