So I have a boyfriend. That's right. Someone other than my husband Scott. His name is Angelo, and we began our romance the day Scott and I moved to Roosevelt Island. I call him my boyfriend, but the truth, really, is that he's just sort of an admirer of the Amy DeVo. He's in his mid fifties and is bound to a wheelchair, as most of the residents in our building are. Whenever he sees me, he waves fiercely and gives me his best smile. However, if Scott is by my side, he glares, crosses his arms, and says/does nothing at all. He's possessive, I get it. The other day, I was up on the 12 floor, where he lives, and where our laundry is located. He wheels past, sees me inside, wheels his quick little chair right back around, and proceeded to do drive bys for the next 5 minutes or so. Finally, he comes back...with a tiny bucket of laundry that he needed to do. What a coincidence. He puts his 2-3 pieces into the machine, then wheels right up next to me. Gotta love his courage. He finally introduced himself to me then, and that's when I learned all about my admirer. His parents left him at birth, when they realized he was severely disabled. He was raised by the state, and now lives in my building, where residents can still receive care from nurses if need be. He gets help with the day to day activities, but really he tries to do as much as he can without others. He wakes up, watches cable (he loves cable), then he wheels around the island and takes in the nature. He made sure to tell me several times that our building is full of gossip but he stays far away from it, because he says that's not what life is for. I then watched him unload his few pieces and move them to the drier. I tried to help him, but he wanted to show me how he could do it. His smile was huge as he showed off his moves. This may be just a cute little story for you, but for me, it reminded me that I complain way too much about my daily business. I am working a ton lately, but at least I can work. My classroom is on the 4th floor and the stairs are a pain, but at least I can climb them. The subways are hot and crowded and sometimes they smell, but at least I can move around the city at will and take it all in. Strangers talk to me way too much in this nutty city, but I need to try and listen more. Maybe they all have something to teach me... Except the guy in Chinatown that is covered in furs and crows like a wild bird when you pass him....his lesson is lost on me.
By the way, this is Angelo. He thinks his profile is his best asset, so that's what I captured. He loves this shot, says it makes him look like a thinker.
