Missed Connection on the Corner of Franklin & West Broadway
There were filming a movie on the corner of Franklin & West Broadway. A crowd of people watched a man in a leather jacket with two white dogs in sweaters talk to his friend under a hovering microphone. She had more interest in the dogs than the movie scene but hurriedly skirted past to get to the other side of the street without winding up in the background.
The day was sunny and warm — almost touching 50 degrees. She considered this a good omen since the forecast previously called for a nor’easter. Instead, the outside world was glowing.
After a lovely bike ride down the West Side Highway and finishing The Alchemist on a bench by the World Trade Center, she headed towards a caffeine fix. She could see a figure standing in the doorway of the coffee shop before she had even crossed the street. Curious.
She opened the first door and saw a man there holding the second door open and smiling directly at her. Because of the dual open doors, light filtered in so brightly it looked like he had golden rays surrounding his body — a real-life Snapchat filter.
He had a dark beard with a few strands of grey that snuck in. His beanie was grey and worn, while his sunglasses looked like they were purchased in a Brooklyn flea shop. He smiled welcomingly as if he had been waiting for her at this door for years.
Her innate nervous disposition did her no favors because she was flustered and unsure what to say. For some reason, the idea of saying “hello” didn’t come naturally to her. He moved towards her, said “you’re welcome” into the silence, and the light disappeared as he moved.
She spit out “thank you” in a voice she didn’t recognize before he was out of the second door. Slowly (or what seemed like slowly), he turned towards her and smiled again.
“Can I get you a cup of coffee?”
“Didn’t you just have a cup of coffee?”
“Yes, but I didn’t have one with you.”
She blushed and nodded towards the door. By now, a few people were staring — likely cringing from the awkward exchange so visible to the rest of the patrons. Now, they were also likely wondering what would happen next — a movie scene without the cameras.
***
After fumbling small talk at the counter and undressing from her winter armor, she sat down and took a deep breath without really meaning to.
“Are you okay?”
Embarrassed (again), she said, “yes, I think I just really need this coffee.”
He lifted his cup to cheers hers and she smiled at the silliness of it all. She let her guard down and started acting like a normal person. Soon, she learned his glasses were actually from a Brooklyn flea market because that’s where he lived — somewhere in Carroll Gardens.
She also learned that he had his own startup company that sold some type of patented software, but she wasn’t sure what because while he was explaining that part she was trying to decide whether his eyes were green or hazel.
She settled on hazel and missed him asking her what she did. She shook herself from the trance and he laughed politely — she took this as a sign that he appreciated and understood that her flighty and awkward demeanor was genuine.
They moved pretty quickly past niceties and at some point, their coffee was cold, the sun was setting, and they were talking about the impact of bitcoin before turning to the architecture of the Oculus downtown.
“We should go there.” She could tell the way she said it with an air of confidence surprised him.
“Didn’t you just come from there?”
“Yes, but I didn’t come from there with you.”
***
They walked out of both doors together bundled up in their winter armor. It was colder now that the sun had set, but the wind was still being friendly.
The walked together towards the Oculus talking about the trouble of finding apartments in the city. Her roommate had just told her she was moving out, and she was spiraling in the many apps she had that were meant to pair her with a match — the Bumble for roommates.
After one of the most uncomfortable exchanges to start, their rapport had become so easy it would’ve seemed impossible for a bystander to imagine they met only a few hours ago.
He told her about the troubles of starting his own company and was raving about a jazz club he discovered in Brooklyn on accident. He said he wanted to take her there one night, and she told him she’d love to go.
Once they got to the Oculus, they retreated to their architecture conversation — one saying it was the perfect juxtaposition against NYC’s more traditional high rises, while the other claimed it was just too opposing… like a puzzle piece you try to squeeze in but knew didn’t fit.
They agreed to disagree, and she decided she liked debating with him. Though at the same time, it was only getting colder and a chill ran through her body — she shook. He noticed immediately and suggested they go inside.
“Are you hungry? How about Eataly?”
She’d never say no to Eataly. So, they continued, and she forgot about all the things she told herself she had to do to that day. They shared pasta and wine and he told her how he liked to make linguine from scratch. She did her best at flirting and mentioned she’d love to learn how.
“How about tomorrow?”
“Pasta again?” she asked surprised.
“Pasta or coffee, I’d repeat anything to see you again.”
She blushed, again. She thought about the people that stared at them in the coffee shop — if only they could see them now.
***
Maybe they’d have a wonderful night and then continue their separate lives — only thinking about the other the next time they had pasta.
Or maybe they’d check out that jazz place, make linguine, and laugh about the strange way they met. She’d get a similar pair of sunglasses at the flea market and that’d be their first selfie posted to their Instagram Stories.
Or maybe, even, their plot would have the happy ending both were looking for. The struggle of finding apartments in New York City would turn into an adventure as they moved into a charming pre-war studio two years later in Chelsea.
Or maybe, she never found the courage to say the simplest words… “thank you”. Maybe she wished she could rewind the moment because she, in fact, let him walk out the door after all.
Maybe.
Maybe.
Maybe.
We should not live in a sea of maybe, should be, could be. If it’s meant to be, it’ll be, but it’s also so important to live in something true instead of wondering about a mystery.
We need to do the things that scare us, say the things that feel uncomfortable, put our guards down, and notice the signs that the universe throws at us. Or just simply acknowledge small acts of chivalry.
