Working from home these past several days has had its benefits, for sure. No rushing to catch the train. No 45 minutes of commuting each way, between the train and the walk to and from the station.
But there’s definitely been a social cost in order to maintain social distancing. I miss the small interactions that normally punctuate each work day.
The brief chat or at least a wave to Elio, who runs the coffee stand at the Fleetwood train station. I’ve known Elio for most of the 40+ years I‘ve been taking the train. Over the years we’ve spoken about things ranging from business or politics to the weather or what life was like in his native Brazil. In recent years, the topic is often grandchildren.
Then there’s Sam, the guy at the coffee cart at the corner of 44th and 3rd. Actually, his full name is Samara. Sam comes from Egypt, and much of his family is still there. We chat about business, traffic and sometimes the pretty woman who just walked past his cart.
And there’s my friend Dahlia, a Russian woman who owns the Comfort Diner on E. 45th Street. I see her every week or so when I go for a lunch of eggs and a toasted bagel. But I often see her as I’m on the way into work and she’s outside the diner taking a cigarette break. I stop and remind her what she’s doing to her lungs, but we’ll also talk about kids or politics or life in general.
When I get into the lobby of my building, I stop to say hi to Franco, who mans the lobby desk. It’s usually a quick hello, but sometimes it’s more.
A few times a week I see my friend Gregory, the doorman at The Kimberly Hotel. Whenever I see him, he takes off his gloves to shake my hand. We'll usually chat about the weather, but we’ve spoken about so much more – work, family, politics. Unlike me, Gregory’s not working from home these days. He’s not working, since the hotel is shut down for a few weeks. I pray he’s still drawing a paycheck.
They’re all brief exchanges, but they are part of my daily routine – a routine that’s been interrupted by something I can’t see called COVID-19.
Most of us have lost little pieces of our daily routines and those little losses add up to an unsettling change.
It’s nice to be home, but it will be nice to – eventually – get my routine back.