Sunday was hot. I had a long day ahead of me. There was sweating involved but not from exercise or frolic. It was the type of humid New York City summer day where sweat pours from you when you breathe. Not that you can breathe because the air is a thick, soggy cesspool of air that has not moved in days. The ground shimmers in the heat. The smells from this sidewalk have been there since the cement was poured.  It was hot. I mentioned that right?

I started out in Church. A really big one. The Cathedral of St. John the Divine. I wanted to be sleeping but I was slated to be on the healing team of one. Holy obligation propelled to church in the avoidance of hell. Summer at the Cathedral means being short staffed. The clergy are switching roles by doing things they might normal do. As an example the Dean of the Cathedral had to be the sub-deacon for the 11 am service. The Dean and I have one particular thing in common we have a deep distaste for NYC summer heat. If you are in the service on a Sunday you are wearing your street clothes and a alb and may be another vestment or two. I just had my alb over my skirt and top. Nonetheless, we were sitting in a very large, warm cathedral and near the end of the service I was really uncomfortable and slightly queasy.  Despite queasy and short staffness the service was lovely and I believe the holy spirit was present.

After the service I had over to the congregation meet and greet party where I had some warm cheese, rice crackers (for my gluten free tummy), grapes and unsweetened ice tea. I then left for my next appointment the 30th b-day party of my niece, Aimee. I tried to finagle a pick up at the train station in Great Neck but was told to take a cab. Geez.

It turned out the #1 train was not running from 110th to 96th street. Since it was 96 degrees walking fourteen blocks was not on my plan. The downtown bus had just left so I found a bit of shade and waited for the next one. While waiting for the bus I decided to head over to the bank so I could have some cash for the cab. The bus pulled in just as I crossed the street but had filled up so fast the bus driver kicked us stragglers and the door.  I chatted with a woman telling her a bus was on its way but she was convinced I was seeing a mirage. When the bus pulled up a bunch of us sweaty passengers piled on. But someone snuck in the back door pissing off the bus driver who wouldn’t move until the guy paid. The reluctant passenger moved up and paid, got into a fight with the driver, prompting the driver to lock down the bus for ten minutes and then kicking us all out. The third bus came right after and we headed to 96th where the trains were running local until 42nd street. I had orginally planned on taking the 1:52 train, moved to the 2:19 and then surrendered to the concept of the 2:52 train.

By the time I got to Penn station I was really queasy and thirsty so I went for french fries and iced coffee and waited the twenty minutes for the train.

Are you catching the drift of the kind of day I was having? I mean it was a lot of frustrating twists and turns, coupled by oppressive heat and humidity and cranky bus drivers. Despite it all I was having a great time with the people I was meeting. At church we did it all with a sense of humor. The passengers, though overheated, were funny and ironic in the way NYer’s can be in situation like these.  This part of the story is my mini oydessy to get to get to the party.

I’ll share the next part of the story, it does take a different turn.