nycandlove blog

New York City is too f*cking small sometimes. Lately, I can’t turn around without walking into someone I’ve slept with.

I wasn’t feeling well at work and I wasn’t able to get anything done for a couple of hours. As a result, I stayed later than normal so I could finish everything up. So I leave work and walk to the subway that I take home every day. I’m waiting for the train when I glance behind me, over to the side, and. And.

The Hamburglar.

He was there. In my subway. By my job. Downtown. The Hamburglar, who has taken the subway about five times throughout his many years living in Manhattan. Who lives and (usually) works uptown. At the same subway station as me. At the same time — a time I am not even usually there. Someone tell me — what are the chances?

I just kept thinking: “I’m not even supposed to be here today!”

Although if I looked pretty I probably wouldn’t be so distressed about this. I actually looked hideous. I’m not exaggerating or fishing for compliments.  I am aware that I am fairly attractive. But sometimes, like on this day, I workout in the morning and without showering go right to work. I have another two weeks before my appointment to tame my Jewfro and the weather was muggy. My hair was in a ponytail and I was wearing this headband that looked weird on my freakishly tiny head (and did I mention it was hot pink and purple? I never kid.) and I was wearing my Hunter boots in 82 degrees because Weather.com lied to me at 6 am when I left the house and said there would be guaranteed storms all day long.

Usually, I wear pretty summer dresses! I have an entire closet full of them!

F*CK.

So I wasn’t looking my best, I wasn’t feeling confident at all. I was caught off guard, which stresses me out. I was wearing some makeup, although I decided earlier in the day not to bother with mascara. I just felt . . . not myself.

Add to this the fact that I was coming off an absolutely amazing, perfect weekend with another boy, and I did not have a single thought of the Hamburglar for days. Of COURSE this is the time I would run into him — when he is, for once in my life, the last thing on my mind.

Just the week before, in fact, I ran into Mitchell. You might remember Mitchell from his appearance in I Only Have Eyes for You. And You., as “guy” from “Well, I came right to your apartment from having sex with another guy.”

It wasn’t as much of a shock that I ran into Mitchell, as we work in the same building complex — in fact, he is the reason I have my job there, as he found out about my job opening from a colleague and sent it over to me. We’ve run into each other before, although rarely. I looked hideous that day as well (I ran into him straight from the gym on a day I decided I didn’t need makeup since no one would be seeing me) and after that encounter decided I would always put on some makeup, even if I think I won’t be seeing any people. Then, as well, I was upset that I didn’t feel as confident and attractive as I can be.

It was only thanks to that incident that I was wearing any makeup at all today when I ran into the Hamburglar. We chatted the entire subway ride and I looked into his clear, sky blue eyes and instead of melting, as I usually (used to?) do, I felt only horror. Horror knowing on any other day I might have looked great and would have given anything to run into him. Although, as a person in the medical profession, he has seen images of the insides of my intestines. So I suppose I looked better than that.

I felt agitated and out of sorts for the rest of the night. And although I would not have gone home with him, I couldn’t help but feel slighted when he didn’t even ask me to. Is it because I look awful? I mean, he’s obviously seen me looking my best before, and at the very least looking very good. I even made it a point to go over there on New Years Eve, the day after my breakup from a one year relationship, just to make sure he would see me when I knew I looked gorgeous.

Seriously, what are the odds?! That of all people, all trains, all times, I would run into the one person who’s been hanging over my head for more than three years. Someone I’ve spent countless nights with. Someone I confessed my love to only to be shot down. Someone I continued to see even after that. Someone who NEVER EVEN TAKES THE SUBWAY.

MY subway! The place I go where I never have to think about seeing him. I walk past the Hamburglar’s apartment building multiple times a week — always looking out for him. He lives and works near my apartment. I could see him at any moment in our neighborhood, and I am fully aware of this fact. That I would see him out of this zone, when I am for once NOT looking around for him . . . Well that was just beyond my comprehension.

For all the people there are in New York City, when you’ve been single for as many years here as I have been, the city is just too small to not run into people you’ve banged.

Ever run into an old flame in an unusual place?