the meat metaphor.

the thing about the new york city subway system is that you're bound to run into someone you know.

the longer you live here the greater your chances. (until you've lived here so long that everyone else has moved away. but i'm not there yet. close, but not yet).

often. when least expected. the door opens and a shadow of distant days steps on, looms over you.

i ran into one such...shadow not so long ago.

we made polite conversation.

i asked him a question regarding something my mind had retained from years previous.

he remarked on my good memory.

i smiled.

turned my head towards my lap and smiled.

i really wanted to turn to him, look right at him, say yes, i remember everything and get off at the next stop.

but i simply smiled.

and sorted through the conjured memories by my lonesome as innocuous language was used to fill the seven-year-stop-gap between us.

weeks later now a new memory has arisen. and it makes me giggle. makes me feel like i'm eighteen and young and the world is harmless.

ready? he compared men to different cuts of steak. asked why i'd want a macdonald's big mac when i could get a tender filet from the best steakhouse in town.

ha, steak. men!

funny because now i'm a full-fledged, card-carrying vegetarian (if they carried cards, i'd have one).

the metaphor never made too much sense to me anyway. and certainly never got him what i assume he wanted which was not all...above-board, shall we say.

and besides, i always liked a good big mac.

all in its time. all in its place.