I have always believed in the cosmos. I don't always know what it means nor that it even has specific meaning. But I believe in energy, I believe energy can change and move and affect other energy. I also believe that energy and magic are the same thing, the only difference being how it is used and frankly who can use it (aka wizards). But I say none of this to ponder endlessly the meaning of life or all paradoxes included in that thought. I say it only it as a preface to those bizarro world moments we experience sometimes and can't help but wonder what the purpose or meaning was, if any. Those moments when you're talking about a movie from 20 years prior and all of a sudden it is on tv the very next day (before google existed and could read your mind through its Big Brother technology of course). That guy who came into your life for no other reason than to remind you he existed after inexplicably knowing you had started to move on. Even those times when something tragic occurs and the only way your brain can function is to grasp onto the hope that it is all part of a greater plan.
I recall a couple of years ago finding myself in the company of a man I thought was akin to my guardian angel. He was a customer at Nespresso when I worked at the boutique on Madison ave on and off for several years. He would come in and sit at the bar with his espresso and his newspaper and occasionally flirt with us ladies in service. Now let's be real, I am blonde and cute, sassy and smart. It is a combination that generally works very well for older men. We struck up a bond of sorts, and he seemed endlessly fascinated with my insanely impractical manner of existence, always encouraging a more pragmatic line of work and way of thinking. Interestingly enough, this was around the time I was about to quit Nespresso for the first time, in pursuit of my real estate license and desire for new and more flexible way of money making. Right before I jumped into this new career (which lasted approximately 2 months btw), I randomly ran into him on the street where my real estate office was, far away from where we both lived or worked. I considered it a good omen and went on with my life. Almost exactly a year later, I had been back at Nespresso for several months but this time working in the retail area, and instead of quitting for real estate I was a week away from leaving for my first Parisian adventure. I was walking past the bar and who should I see but the same guardian angel, once again heralding a new phase in my ever changing life agenda. This time we exchanged information and he ended up giving me a great deal of advice and info whilst I was abroad. He also started sounding a bit more lecherous than my innocent little brain had been able to anticipate. When I returned to NYC a few months later, it was clear he had other expectations which I quickly rebuffed as best I could. And once again several months later, while on my way to an interview around Grand Central station, I walked straight into this gentleman, who acted distinctly cold and odd and I frankly never saw him again. Needless to say, I did not get the job I was interviewing for and truth be told I actually did see him one more time, very briefly. He walked into Nespresso again one day, not at all expecting me to be there, and when he saw me behind the registers, he promptly turned around and fled.
This story has always fascinated me because while I had originally interpreted these strange encounters as the cosmic work of a guardian angel bringing omens of new adventures, I realized that in fact none of these ventures ever worked out and it is very possible he was in fact always the devil in disguise, toting negative karma under his fictional facade.
Now to be frank, this now leads me to a more recent suspicion of cosmic coincidence. We all know that I engage in dalliances on occasion. I sometimes fancy myself Carrie Bradshaw, happy to report my ridiculous moments with the even more ridiculous males of the world. There has in fact been a certain male figure who has popped onto the scene a few times over the past year, never luckier than to be the recipient of some tipsy teasing and goodnatured making out. But since I exclusively participate in absurdist escapades, these particular moments have only ever happened in his car. Say what you will, a city gal is lucky to have a high school age hookup in a car on occasion. The point of my story, however, is that every single time this rendezvous has unfolded, I somehow end up leaving an accessory in his vehicle. The first time an earring, the second time a shoe (don't ask how that went unnoticed) and the third time a cardigan. I say none of this to emphasize the fact that I am in fact a lushy lip whore. That is all fairly well established already. I merely mention it to point out the eternal conundrum of why some things happen when. Perhaps these are all clues to a much greater mystery. Or perhaps, as often the case may be, simply the life links that connect one day to the next, an ongoing stream of moments and memories.