The Pretty Italian Girl

Today spent half an hour with a very pretty, very friendly Italian girl. We waited for the NJ Transit together in New Jersey, then rode together into Manhattan, then downtown on the E train. She’s a grad student at NYU in whatever program it is where you help physically handicapped people. She works for AT&T or SW Bell. Lives on Long Beach with her folks, went to undergrad at Albany. Loves the city, would go out of her mind in the country. Asked me quite a bit about myself. Said helpful things about me finding work in NY. Was sweet about helping us find the E train—waited for Dad and Jane to catch up. Said it bothers her to see the homeless, frustrates her that programs are available to help them but can’t be done because of bureaucratic rules: the homeless have no address, thus can’t be mailed money, etc. Likes the Hands Across America idea. Spent eight weeks in England studying. Likes the mellower lifestyle there. Has gorgeous large eyes, cute small hands, a somewhat seedy-looking large coat (lint etc.). Low income?  Anyway, why didn’t I ask for her address? I’ll be living here soon. Fool! ~ Journal, March 7, 1986