More non-nonfiction.

Caryn and I met in Midtown in the winter of 2007. I was working at Barclay’s and she was breaking in her heels for her nephew’s bar-mitzvah. I was walking to meet some B-school friends for happy hour and she was navigating the ice on 5th Avenue with the grace of a Clydesdale. I saw her from a block away, beyond her awkward gait and the fact that she was the only one outside of Christopher Street with the audacity to wear high heels in February, she was taller than most women, something that immediately attracted me. She had on a long white coat, which overlay a navy dress that carried down to her shins, which were uncovered in the cold and tan as if she wintered somewhere warm like Majorca. I liked how she was put together and how she stood out and wasn’t at all affected by the fact that she looked like a maniac crossing a minefield between the piles of greying snow on the sidewalks of Midtown, a Bergdorf bag dangling from her wrist.

I kept my gaze on her, hoping I could initiate eye contact, but she was determined to over-manage the slick footing beneath her (a trademark-in-wait). She crossed 58th while I was still a half-block away and I switched my briefcase and my coffee cup so that, if all else failed, I might swing the case into her. As she went, she kept a rhythm by which she would take three tenuous steps and then look ahead to see the path like a swimmer turning his head between a set of crawl strokes. If a human limp could be adorable, this would be the instance. I already felt myself smiling. As she drew near, the wind brought one long strand of hair down across her face, a moment of unintentional sultry. The point where I hoped to catch her eye came and went and so I stepped slightly into her way and let my briefcase carry through. Direct hit.

“Oh my god!” she cried as she lost her footing.

I dropped my coffee onto the sidewalk and it hit with a splash. I swung my left arm in to brace her. She immediately clutched it, but couldn’t right herself and brought us both down. I quickly crouched to stay off the ground and kept her from falling all the way by propping her up with my arms. We froze in the position for a moment like we’d just performed an elaborate Vaganova. One obliging passerby applauded loudly. Caryn started to laugh.