Union Square Park

“He’s not coming,” I said, and threw my finished cigarette on the ground. I moved my shoe over the remnants of the butt, about to be extinguished by my ballet flat. I took a deep breath and exhaled as the early autumn evening air.

“When was the last email he sent you,” a friend of mine asked.

“About thirty minutes ago,” I replied. I looked up; the sun had already given way to the night and I began to feel uneasy. We stood around the northwest side of Union Square Park waiting for a figure that I had only seen in photos to appear out of the nearest subway station. I tensed up.

“This is weird, meeting this guy,” I said to my friends. “Thanks for standing here with me.”

They smiled, and I grabbed my pack of cigarettes out of my bag. I pulled one out, lit it, and started shaking.

“Oh God,” I said. “I’m so nervous!”

One friend laughed. “This is like some blind date thing,” he said. “With a Hasid!”

“No…no, don’t say that,” I replied. I had been on blind dates before, and each outcome was completely different from the other. My eyes landed on the trees as a soft breeze swept through the branches. The leaves moved slightly, like the early morning twitches of a semi conscious baby, days after birth.

It was a beginning. Of what, at that moment I could not tell. Everything has a start and finish, and this was to be a new chapter in my life that I had not yet fully realized. The trees’ leaves had just begun to fall, signaling a forthcoming wintry death in nature. I was still nervous.

I began to think of the only Hasidic person with whom I had ever come into contact. He had dark eyes that seemed to almost intrude as they stared back at you. A strictly business meeting can have a lasting effect, leave an impression. I inhaled my cigarette.

“Funny,” I thought. “How a single feature could become so entrancing.” And my eyes wandered to the makeshift sukkah that was set up at the southwest end of Union Square Park. It was dark now, everyone had left and the door was locked. I frowned, not knowing what it was, what it was used for, and not knowing anything about the apparent holiday that was currently happening.

“He better not stand you up,” my friend chimed in.

“Yeah,” I said. “But if he does, it will make for a great story: I got stood up by a Hasid. Big FAIL!”

We laughed. Minutes passed, and it was getting colder.

“Ok,” I said. “Let’s walk over toward the subway stop and we’ll see what happens. He could just be late.”

“Yeah, then we’re gonna go,” my girl friend replied.

“Me too,” I said.

We sauntered across the park, toward the station and joked about how funny the whole situation was. I smiled and laughed, grateful to have my friends with me.

I looked forward and saw a figure in a white sweatshirt coming out of the station. He had a backpack and was reaching for a cigarette. I squinted, and could see his beard. He walked closer and I saw his peyos. Then, I saw an outline of a black thing on top of his head: a yarmulke.

He looked at me, not sure if he could tell who I was. I smiled back.

“Hi, I’m Meagan.”

Tags: dating, non-Jews, off the derech, Union Square