magicbeans. nothing if not awkward.

Brunch with the New York Times Magazine at Organic Grill. Swiftly becoming a Sunday routine. And it was such a beautiful day that I decided to take a walk around for a while before hopping on the train back uptown.

At 34th Street a girl sat down in the seat next to me. Shortish blond hair. Glasses. Jeans and a t-shirt. A bag over her shoulder and jacket hung over that. Reading a text-heavy magazine article about New York politics; the call-out quotes were about Bloomberg.

In a way, my mirror image. My jacket was a hoodie. The call-out quotes in the article I was reading were about Hillary Clinton.

She got off at 181st.