Today I went across the street to the deli to get lunch. It's snowing hard.
I had my headphones on and, I guess, had zoned out, sort of entranced by Nico Muhly's song, "The Only Tune Part 1: The Two Sisters."
On my way out, with my bag of Soy Crisps and a giant thing of water (office water is freaky), I didn't see a man walk into the deli. To avoid walking right into him at the last minute, I stepped back.
But in doing so, my bag swung forward and smacked him right in the stomach.
Then he said, "Sorry!"
And I walked around him.
I'm typically the woman who apologizes in a situation in which a man (or woman) steps on my foot and it's clearly NOT my fault. Normally men in this city do not apologize, but think it is somehow socially acceptable to acknowledge the apology of the wounded victim and walk off tra la la down the street. Or something. Point being, I apologize a lot on the subway when I'm not actually doing anything other than getting bumped or squished by someone else. On the subway, women seem always to apologize to men for things they're not responsible for. So, this might be one of the first times in my life in which 1) I totally didn't apologize when I should have and 2) the man apologized in earnest. And now I feel bad. Oh well. I need to work on making my apologies more timely.
Funny article/blog in the New York Times by Christoph Niemann:
He writes," During the cold and dark Berlin winter days, I spend a lot of time with my boys in their room. And as I look at the toys scattered on the floor, my mind inevitably wanders back to New York."