I slept okay with Melinda in the bed, not great, but better than in Charleston. I was slowly getting used to her and she did sleep like a stone so I wasn't as afraid that my tossing and turning was keeping her awake.

And it was nice having her there in the morning.

We had some fun frisky time and then went apartment hunting for her second home... The hotel. I slung my yoga matt on my back as I was going to head off to my usual 3 o'clock Saturday class after checking her into her house. We found a very decent joint just around the corner from my house. They've turned all these old SROs into cheap hotels that are very nice and affordable and since she wasn't really going to be in the room very much and it really was more of a psychological tool than a real place she was going to be, I felt fine about getting her one of these houses. She was totally cool with it. It was above my diner on Broadway and a place where busloads of Swedish tourists always stay. I felt it had good vibes.

I kissed her good bye and went off to yoga, she went off to read and get a mani/pedi from the Koreans, although I had scared her off them a bit by telling her about the marginal cleanliness of some of the joints. I think I had fallen prey to one of those awful local evening news "watch dog" pieces on a particularly nasty establishment that offered staff infections along with their treatments and told Melinda about it. She had brought her own tools to give to the ladies to use on her so she wasn't all that freaked out.

I was going to meet up with her for dinner on 6th Street for Indian and Donny was going to join us. Yes. The first "friend meeting" was going to be that night. That's why I couldn't invite her to what I was doing after yoga before dinner because it would have been intimacy overload at this stage of the game.

My friends Tom and Jenny had just had their second baby on Thursday. He was two days old, just like take two of Melinda and my relationship. Having her come along to meet two of my friends with their newborn baby no less was just way too much, so I went alone.

I've never been that into hospital shows on TV. I never really got the drama. I've never been sickly or accident prone. I've always been healthy and an athlete and in pretty decent shape and so has my family thank God, so I haven't spent much time in hospitals. But going in this one for some reason I was suddenly awestruck with this extra wave of humility. They really are places that make you think abut life and death. I mean, obviously, but it just had never landed for me like it did on Saturday.

I made my way to the 13th floor, the same floor I grew up on, the same floor my mom still lives on in the apartment I grew up in. I found Tom and Jenny's room at the end of the hallway. They were both beaming and happy to see me. They are both in their early 40's and as a result, their two year old son is very calm. All of my friends who had kids in their late 30s or early 40s have calm kids. I think it tends to follow, the more serene the parents, the more serene the kids. Not that age inherently breeds wisdom, obviously it doesn't or our world would look a lot different. Maturity only comes with ceaseless self appraisal and tireless spiritual study and discipline. Having as far to go as I have, having worked as hard as I have to this point, it's easy to see why we're in the predicament we are since most are clueless that there's even anything they need to be looking at. The world's run by 60 year-old 13 year-old boys who never got over getting sand kicked in their faces.

I held this tiny little human in my arms and was blown away. He was a cesarean like I was. My mother had been in labor for 48 hours until they finally had to get me out because I was strangling on my umbilical chord and would die in 60 seconds if I wasn't liberated. I was afraid of this world it seems and wanted to stay in the cozy warmth of my mom. But it all worked out well. It's my theory on why I feel comfortable rushing. I always have. On the rare occasion I get to an airport early, I'll still find a way to have to run to the plane before they shut the door. I just feel more comfortable with some pressure. High stakes. I think that's why.

So I left the hospital and walked downtown on Second Avenue. It had been a tough week with all the hate aimed at me from the scared, sad, people who only know that way to deal with it. And even with all the love from all of you and my friends who are also to some extent sad and scared but like me, have figured out a better way to handle it than misguiding it as hate towards others who have nothing to do with it, I still felt a bit drained.

But having held this two day old boy in my arms... A little me... A little everyone, all that went away and the majesty of this life came slamming gently into me like the strong cold wind pushing me in the chest as I walked. It was 3 below with wind chill. I was in heaven. I've always loved the cold. Like me, the tiny one I had just held, was born Aquarian. He would love the cold too.

I got on a cross town bus at 14th Street to meet Melinda at Union Square so I could walk with her to the restaurant on 6th Street. I stood in the front. It was crowded. A disheveled man wearing only a dirty, stained Tee shirt under a light windbreaker sat to my left, facing me. He had thick glasses, 4 day scruff, matted tossed hair and a medicated gaze. He was holding a DVD off an old, lesser known Bruce Lee movie. Out of nowhere he announced, "I love Bruce Lee. I always have. Ever since I was a kid. He Made movies and then played Kato on the Green Hornet." He was aiming his conversation at an elderly woman, who clearly didn't know him, sitting across the isle from where he was sitting. She ignored him. He was nonplussed and forged ahead. "I like 50 year old women. I'm attracted to them." By elderly, I mean she was 70. He didn't mean her. He was just sayin... "40, 50. I don't care. It's normal. I'm 40." A few people started to look at each other and laugh that laugh that people do when they want to collude against the crazy guy. I never join that group. I have more of the "but for the grace of God go I" point of view. It's a smaaaaaaaaaaaaaall degree, a sliver of luck that separates that guy and me and I never forget it or take it for granted. I'd be his friend if no one else would.

"Women are beautiful at all ages. 50, 60, 70. Amazing creatures."

"Well not 70. I'm 40. But 50 is good." He didn't want to wax poetic with me. He was talking nuts and bolts. I joined his sensibility.

"Absolutely."

"I would like the woman. I would like to meet the nice woman and marry her."

"I think you should. You're clearly a talented man. You like Bruce Lee. I'm sure the perfect woman is out there for you."

"You think?"

"I know."

"Okay. Thanks."

"I have to get off now, but you have a nice night."

"You too." It's amazing to me how many people are hanging on by a thread, me included at times. As long as you don't commit any crimes you're allowed to be out in society, walk, talk, ride busses, go to delis, eat hot dogs from hot dog stands... be a normal person like the rest of the normal people out there. Out here. Yeah.

You're gonna throw the first stone? Hysterical.

I'm gonna throw the first stone? Even more hysterical.

I met Melinda and we met Donny and had a nice dinner at my favorite Indian joint. They got along well though Melinda seemed a little tired which she remarked on as we headed up town in the cab.

"I feel like I wasn't very social. I'm just so tired."

"You were perfect. Donny is only ever sort of present anyway, like me. He didn't notice."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

We got back to my house and I of course made my special cookies. By the time I was back from the kitchen Melinda was passed out on the couch. The SNL opening monologue wasn't even over yet and she was out.

"Here's your dessert."

She popped up and started eating it. "I just don't know why I'm so tired.... Ohhhhhhhhhhhh"

"What?"

"I'm so stupid! I just realized."

"What?"

"I took a Benedryl before I met you because of the allergies." She had complained of allergies when she woke up at my house that morning. I told her it was just the dry air from the radiators. A winter in New York thing.

"Honey, that shit'll fuck you up! It's like Tuinalls. Haven't you ever taken them before?"

"No." For such a smart girl, she has a little Alabama Whirley in her. It's what I like about her but the downside is she doesn't know Benidryl will knock you out.

"You have enough energy to give me little half comatose blow job before you pass out again, baby?" She grinned and started crawling over towards me.

"You were thinking about that at dinner weren't you."

"Maybe."

"I think your cookies might just have given me the boost I need," she said as she unzipped my pants.

"What if I get inspired and want you to sit on me?"

"I don't know how long I'll be able to stay awake. You might just have to keep fucking me in my sleep." Her eyes were closing as if she was already starting a dream.

"Well maybe I better just let you blow me then."

"No. I wanna fuck."

"But what if you fall asleep and fall off me and hit your cute little head on the ground."

"I won't." And she was asleep on my lap... which was so sweet and so fine. My pants would need to be open in a few minutes anyway after my third helping of cookies and Rice Dream so it was all good.

I thought of how much I enjoy my life. The little things. How lucky I am to be able to walk and talk and get a doughnut and a cup of coffee in a coffee shop and listen to the bitter wind howl out on Second Avenue.

Wait for a bus.

Watch a TV show.

Have a soft girl asleep on my lap.

Hold a baby boy whose eyes focused on me and wondered what any of it was and would be. That wonder doesn't have to be gone, I thought. I can have it now. I just have to want to have it.

That's the hard part.

Posted by Eric Schaeffer at 1:35 AM

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