Entry #2

Serendipity.

Bought my subway seven-day pass for $24.

Meandering through the theatre district en route to MOMA, I pass the
Gershwin Theatre where Wicked is playing, and it happens to be the
time when people sign up for the lottery. I sign up, explaining in
Spanish to a tall and elegant woman from Lima that she need not pay in
advance. I continue to MOMA, buy my ticket for the rare screening of
Warhold's Chelsea Girls, and return for the Wicked drawing. Two
hundred people are waiting, mostly young girls. My name is the first
called. The woman from Lima also is chosen. I felt guilty since it
was not planned, but the front row seat suited me fine. Beautiful
show, but as New York magazine rated the long-running show with a
"recommended" star but said, "Curiously unsatisfying, unless you are a
young girl." That's a little harsh. The performances and the wit
(and the proximity to the players) suited me fine. I peer over the
edge to see the orchestra working at their craft, wearing black
t-shirts mostly, tuning up, content.

I may be bad at poker, but luck serves me well in New York. Maybe
living in the States is not so bad. One can be poor and live
otherwise, if you want. It must come at some cost to the rest of the
world.

I think in Spanish. I talk to strangers and we have things to talk about.