The best thing happened to me the other night. I was waiting (in the disgusting heat) for the train at 23rd Street when a man and a little girl got off. I instantly recognized the man. I'm almost positive he's Japanese and he has crazy bleached blonde hair so he's pretty recognizable.
When I worked by Madison Park, I'd eat lunch there or take breaks with my coworkers. Almost every time we'd go to the park, we'd see this blonde Japanese man with his adorable little daughter. She had a bowl cut with short little bangs. The first time we saw them, she was probably about 2 years old, still learning to hold her balance while running around on the bumpy grass. We figured they must live nearby because they seemed to be there every afternoon. It was sweet to see. Eventually, we felt like we were watching her slowly grow up. When I saw her the other night, she looked at least 5 years old, baby fat shed away but still the short little bangs. I couldn't believe it was them. I hadn't seen them in years. I don't think they saw my gaping face, thankfully, and eventually I got myself together and got on the train, smiling all the way home. It's moments like this that make me love the city.
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I remember that little girl!! Damn five...she's gotta be older now no? I was thinking maybe 6-7...since I left the city like 5 years now...man that girl was such a cutie!
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