seven seconds

[After a woman asks about Ben's father at a party, and he reveals his father died many years ago] "Everyone looked at the floor for the obligatory seven seconds before someone changed the subject, a ritual deeply familiar to people whose parents die young. Ben waited for the obligatory seven seconds to pass. It had been years since he had felt embarrassed during those seconds. By now they felt to him like time spent waiting for an elevator: boring, wasteful, a chance to run errands in one's head."
(from The World to Come, by Dara Horn)

only in new york

Yesterday morning I went traipsing out of my apartment, clothed in one of my many black tank tops and my ankle-length gauzy black skirt, to head downtown for a morning showing of World War Z with a couple friends.

As I locked my door and headed to the elevator my next-door neighbor came out of her apartment, clothed in a black tank top and ankle-length black gauzy skirt.

We said good morning and eyed each other warily as we waited for the elevator. Eventually we just chuckled at our identicalness and commented on the weather (it's been hot -- really hot -- here the last week) and went on with our day.