Riding the Train to a Place Filled With Memories

When Nick and I went to see a comedy show recently, we took public transportation. Here are some pictures I took during our subway train ride home.

The evening was filled with blasts from the past …

At the time that Nick and I first met, I was living near this subway stop, and had stood on this very platform five days a week, every week, for two years.

I had a small apartment just up the street, a cute place on the top floor of a house. There was a little kitchen with a sliding glass door, which led out to a pint-sized deck, high up in the sky. There were grapevines growing up from below, and I tied them to the railings, creating a lush green backdrop for the pots of petunias I had out there in the summer.

It was the first and only time I ever lived by myself, and I adored that place. In retrospect, I appreciate it more now knowing that this was the setting for the love story of my life.

Being single at the time, I was dating. And I met some very nice men and recall a few dinners for two out there on the deck, sitting in candlelight at my little round table. But while the setting was perfect for romance, my heart had not yet felt a tug.

Then came a blind-date with this guy named Nick. That was 14 years ago in November.

Back then he used to come and visit me at my apartment, so he has also spent some time on this same subway platform. And while we both have been there many times in the past, neither had been back to that particular stop since I packed up my things and moved on to live my new life with him.

The winter we met was a record-breaker as far as the amount of snow that fell in the city. There was one massive storm that closed everything down, including public transportation. That was the only time ever that the army was called in to help clear the snow.

But that storm happened in January, so was not the cause of my being stuck inside for a week just before Christmas that year.

No, that was for a different reason, of which I was reminded when we were there the other night, as we passed a hair salon in my old ‘hood, called Angel. It was the place that I had had a lovely up-do done a week before Christmas, for a special date with my new boyfriend. He had invited me to his work Christmas party which was to be a glam affair and the first time that I was going to meet his friends and co-workers. I dressed up all fancy in a new dress I had bought especially for the occasion.

After the work party, we headed over to a warehouse party that I had been invited to. Shortly after our arrival at this second party however, the memorable event that caused me to be house-bound for the following week happened.

In a nut-shell, I was accidentally hit on the nose by a piece of wood and ended up with a minor break and the two blackest eyes I have ever seen on anyone.

It happened as I turned a corner just in time to see the projectile coming straight for my face, but too late to duck. It was a matter of really rotten timing, as the wood was being wedged into the bracket of a huge sliding door by a man who was standing on a chair. It slipped from his hands and landed on me.

Anyway, Nick who was summoned from another room, found me lying on the floor. But I was able to get up, and while I knew the impact that I had been dealt, I looked ok from the outside, except for a tiny cut. The people running the party felt awful, but there was no doubt that it had been a freak accident.

Nick took me home, I took some ibuprofen and went to bed. The next day I woke up to an image in the mirror that looked nothing like me. I went to the hospital where I was told it was going to look bad for quite a while, but that there was nothing really they could do. The break was at the very top of my nose and they don’t do anything for that. Only time would heal it.

Nick says that he fell in love with me, while looking at into those black eyes. (Romantic, right? lol)

Now I have a scar which is a faded but indelible reminder of the early days of our time together.

A more charming memory I have of that time, did happen during the snowstorm just a couple of weeks later, right after New Year’s Day in 1999. It is of opening my door to a frosty snow-covered parka-clad boyfriend, who had come to visit me, walking all the way through snow that reached over his knees. He brought treats that his mother had mailed him for Christmas, and a bottle of wine. Little did I know at the time where that cold-nosed hello kiss was going to take me.

Thanks for stopping by. Hope your Monday has been a good one.
xo loulou

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