KABOOM

Susan comes over with a bottle of wine and a bag of spinach.  I play Christmas choral music from the Pandora website.

We sit side by side on the sofa and page through the art book I recently bought through Amazon, "The Messiah". The book tells the story of Christ through the history of art.  Aroo (the cat) stretches over both our laps. Susan thinks that most of the classical paintings depicting Christ are corporal, sensual, sexy.

"Look at those shoulders! Those legs!"

We play "Name That Tune" using pandora.
We eat yams, spinach and organic turkey bacon.
We barely touch the wine but when Susan goes, she leaves her winter coat (hanging in the closet) and her cellphone (on my coffee table).

Susan must be in love.

The next night I bring her coat and cellphone to her apartment on West 95th and Central Park West.
Susan borrows a neighbor's bike and we ride the loop of Central Park in the cold December night.
The New York skyline chaperones our joyride through the brittle, leafless park.

At "Poet's Walk" we peddle past statues of Robert Burns, William Shakespeare, and Sir Walter Scott.  Susan asks me if I'm related to each statue we pass (referring to an earlier blog entry I wrote about being related to Oliver Ellsworth). This, I find hysterical.

Before we split up at west 72nd Street, we're stopped by a young man with a thin face, long hair, and a serious expression. He needs directions to the east side. Susan is all over it and the young man takes his time with us as if he wants to spend time with us.  He thanks us and is on his way.

I tell Susan that that could have been Jesus. Looked just like him. He was testing us and we passed.

Susan says "imagine if we'd been rude?" and then she pantomimes lightning striking her. "Kaboom!"