Okay first of all, GOOD MORNING! 

I know you love that. I know you love to say GOOD MORNING! We don’t even know each other, but I guess we do now, because GOOD MORNING! I noticed that the other parents – dragging their mittened off-spring and pushing a fresh one in a stroller are never too busy or frazzled to chirp a chipper GOOD MORNING! So I started doing it too, and I said it first, and it went really well if you remember, and you said it back and we were off to a good start.

I was glad you didn’t hear my nine year old ask, “Do we know her?” like he has a list and you are not on it.

I was too not-awake-yet to explain that I felt bad that you always said it first and I want to appear to give a fuck to the other families whose life they must feel you are practically saving and that one day he too will do countless, disingenuous things. Instead, I said, “We see her every day and she’s here to make sure we get to school safely, so I say GOOD MORNING to her.”

Lies. 

By the way, that Poland Spring truck was never gonna stop for you, those guys are crazy understaffed and under a lot of pressure.

Lately, I have started saying it with this annoying inflection that is not like me at all and it comes out MOR-NEEENG! which is not acceptable. I need to get back to something simpler. You can never go wrong with a solid HOWYADOIN? I will try that tomorrow. Other than that, I think our relationship has been in a pretty good place.

Sometimes, I see other people stop and talk to you and I feel a little jealous. I am stuck on GOOD MORNING! Is this what the friend zone is like?

What do you guys talk about? I am so curious. I’m afraid if I stopped and tried to butt in it would go terrible or I would come in with a hot take that was completely off-topic: Biden’s infrastructure plan doesn’t address climate change at all, amiright?

So I just smile in an open and interested seeming way ready to make eye contact and be more of a part of the community. Maybe this is all there is though, maybe in some scenes, we are background actors.

Sidenote, what’s with all the layers? I mean it’s like, forty degrees.  It looks like you can’t quite put your arms down. And the fingerless gloves and the Fargo-Lady hat with the ear flaps? Guys who work in freezers in meat packing plants don’t wear that many layers, and how long are you even out here for? Like forty-five minutes? What do you do the rest of the day until I go back at 2:50 to get him? Do they send you to other intersections like the guys near Times Square making sure no one gets run over on their way to the Rockettes? 

I have a proposition. Have you considered freelancing at other busy intersections? 

Because the other day I was crossing Broadway at Eighty-sixth Street, which we all know can be a little hairy, and the light was turning yellow and I thought, I wish the crossing guard from outside my son’s school was here to help me across Broadway. I tried shouting GOOD MORNING to see if one of you was around, but no one came. I don’t have a ton of money, so I can’t afford it, but I am sure there are people who could use your expertise and nerves of steel and are willing to pay handsomely for it. Like an Urban Sherpa. I can see you now – in a slimming high-tech ski jacket (you will need better gear walking a few feet ahead of little old ladies willing to pay for that kind of peace of mind. And you will be able to afford it now also.) I think emergency vehicles have some kind of remote control to change the traffic lights, you could look into getting one of those too, and it wouldn’t hurt to maybe get some first aid certification. All this would allow you to raise your rate. 

Just something for you to think about. 

Be careful out there.

See you tomorrow.