Saying Goodbye

This morning, Hank, an older guy who has lived in my building for 30 years stopped me on the way down the stairs to wish me luck and give me a hug (not in a creepy way). Also, another guy who lives there and who voluntarily tends to the garden told me he'd look after my plants if I leave them in the backyard for him. It was sweet.

I feel oddly compelled to go around to everyone I vaguely know in my neighborhood to say farewell -- but realize this compunction is probably psychotic. (When I was young and we moved, which was A LOT, I'd go around saying goodbye to every inanimate object in the house!) I'd like to say to my drycleaner, "Thanks for cleaning my clothes all these years, and mostly remembering my name - even though I have no idea what your name is. You seem nice and I'll miss you." And to my laundry person: "You never destroyed any of my clothes and only once did an unidentified pair of men's boxers end up in my laundry bag - Thanks! I'll miss you too."

I did tell Charlie, the ex-Mafia guy who sits on his stoop across from my apartment, that I was leaving. He gave me a 'good luck, kid' kind of farewell -- but that was like 2 weeks ago and I think he's annoyed that I am still here.

People say New York is this big anonymous city, but really every neighborhood has its regular fixtures. I don't know everyone's names, they don't know mine -- but there is a cohesiveness I'll miss.