Louise pulled her dark hair back from her flushed face as she made the closing doors of the packed subway. A bead of sweat made the long journey down the curve of her back and she puffed out the front of her airy blouse "Whew." she said out loud. Charlie was meeting her at the subway at 42nd street from there they had dinner plans at her favorite Italian restaurant. She was running late and tried to text him but of course there was no service in the tunnel.
Charlie unloosened his tie as he navigated the churning sea of people that was 42nd street. Beads of sweat stood out on his forehead making his fair hair stick to his brow. He looked through the crowd of people to see if maybe Louise had gotten there but was met only by hundreds of anonymous faces. Charlie loved New York after moving there two years ago but the sheer amount of people still bugged him out occasionally. Masses of people like rapids of rivers moved toward him; guys in business suits like him just trying to get home, women on cell phones and in high heels, homeless shuffling with downcast eyes or crazy eyed and babbling heads thrust into the sky.
Charlie unloosened his tie as he navigated the churning sea of people that was 42nd street. Beads of sweat stood out on his forehead making his fair hair stick to his brow. He looked through the crowd of people to see if maybe Louise had gotten there but was met only by hundreds of anonymous faces. Charlie loved New York after moving there two years ago but the sheer amount of people still bugged him out occasionally. Masses of people like rapids of rivers moved toward him; guys in business suits like him just trying to get home, women on cell phones and in high heels, homeless shuffling with downcast eyes or crazy eyed and babbling heads thrust into the sky.
Louise made her way up the grinding escalator her last trek up from the underground for the day and into the somewhat cooler air of the corridors of Manhattan. She checked her phone for service and texted Charlie; "At the Subway." She watched as tourists stood and gawked at the Chrysler building or like morons risked their lives waiting in the middle of the street, Taxis bearing down on them, for their relatives to snap a photo. All that for a crumby picture, she thought. I wonder if Charlie and I were to go to Paris would we dangle from the Eiffel Tower just for a souvenir picture, or stand in front of bulls in Barcelona, maybe walk-up and pet a lion on safari in Africa. "Charlie would and I would have to stop him." she thought with a kind of pessimism. “I must be hungry; I am getting mean." she sighed to herself.
Charlie made his way through the streaming crowd. “I can't do Italian tonight Lou."
She put a hand on her hip puffed out her blouse with the other and blew a lock of hair off her face. She turned her eyes up at him and Charlie recognized that look as one that was usually reserved for his more gross transgressions and grievous misconduct.
"Italian it is." Charlie said.
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