Today is Thursday, August 31, 2023, the last day of the month. As I wrote yesterday, I would be shaking in my boots over the beginning of September and the arrival of the Labor Day weekend starting tomorrow when I still labored in the classroom for the Department of Education of New York City. But now, I don’t have to worry like so many of my former colleagues who still work as teachers, but whom I don’t see since my retirement, by the way.

At the outset, I will have to cut this blog short since I basically just came home from spending most of the afternoon and evening in the city seeing a Juliette Binoche film, Between Two Worlds, at the Quad Cinema, on 13th Street. In the film, Binoche portrays a writer by the name of Marianne Winckler who goes undercover to work as a “maintenance agent,” namely a cleaning person, and eventually finding herself working on the cross-channel ferry and developing close connections with the other cleaning women, many of whom have extremely limited resources and income opportunities. Here we see the usual glamorous French star joining the ranks of so many invisible women cleaning toilets, making beds, and enduring punishing hours and uncaring employees so they can pay their rent and put food on the table.

As I was watching the film, Binoche’s character made me think of the American version of this French writer: Barbara Ehrenreich who wrote The New York Times‘ best-seller, Nickel and Dimed: On (Not) Getting By in America many years ago in which Ehrenreich did the same thing as Binoche’s character: she went undercover and posed as a lower-earning domestic worker in various low-paying establishments (primarily in the service industry) and made close friendships with the women she worked with. The book eventually was adapted into a series sometime ago which I watched. The author was a sharp critic of the inequities in American society, and I was saddened to hear of her death about a year ago. Another book of hers that I read was Bait and Switch: The (Futile) Pursuit of the American Dream in which she examined the fantasy of achieving the American dream through hard work and persistence. In this book, she also went out there and took on the persona of a woman facing the rigors of applying for various jobs with a made-up professional resume.

Before seeing the movie, I did do a mitzvah (which I really shouldn’t advertise, but I am) earlier in the day: I got to visit our breakfast friend in the rehab center right here on Yellowstone Boulevard without any of the other friends from the diner. I was getting frustrated over the women not being able to schedule a visit there. The preparations for just a half hour with the poor lady took on the aura of what it must have been like in scheduling the D-Day assault on Nazi-occupied France. Actually, the preparations for that invasion were probably not as complicated as our arrangements over when and how to visit with “Carol.” So I took matters in my own hand and called Carol from Citibank to see if she were able to see me – after breakfast.

I asked Carol if she could meet me downstairs in the porch area, and she initially said yes. However, after she called me back as I began my walk to the facility, she mentioned that I would have to come up to her room on the third floor. Oh well, I would have preferred she meet me outside; I didn’t want to go up to the floor to see her, but there was no other way. I did wear a face mask when I entered the facility.

As I was waiting for the elevator, there was a little excitement in the lobby: a huge water bug was seen crawling on the wall and all the female attendants were frozen in their tracks (they were screaming only), but one assistant bravely coached the insect down from the wall and another older lady crunched it with her shoe.

I found Carol in her room, sitting in a wheelchair and I sat down in a chair by her bed and spent about a half hour with her. She claimed her son was there very recently, but I didn’t see his name on the register downstairs. I also didn’t see him in the elevator as I was going up to his mother’s room. But I don’t want to say that Carol was hallucinating about seeing her son. I don’t know her well enough to offer anything in this area. I wouldn’t want to contact her son to probe whether he was at the center on Thursday in the morning hours – before I came. It’s not my role here.

So after visiting my diner friend in the rehab center, I decided to treat myself to a film. That’s when I looked up the schedule of films playing at the Quad. I saw the Binoche film going on at 5:35, so I packed my Strand bag with the Daily News, my iPod, and my Empire of Pain book. Oh, I also packed a bottle of water.

After the film, I walked to 17th Street and Seventh Avenue and ate at Cafeteria. I enjoyed a warm helping of their tomato basil soup, along with the meatloaf, served with garlic whipped potatoes, sautéed green beans, and oven-roasted tomato relish. I eschewed dessert to have just a cup of coffee.

Then I walked to 6th Avenue to take the F train to Forest Hills. I didn’t have to wait long for a train, but for some reason, it went local (it was probably due to the fact it was off-rush hour) through Queens which took a long time to get back. I must have gotten home after 10 or so. I was able to finish my paper (no one was reading a paper or anything like a book, from what I could see). These days everyone is on their cell phone!

Tomorrow I will not write here since I’m seeing Some Like it Hot on Broadway with my Bayside friend “Gene.” I was able to order TDF (Theater Development Fund) tickets online for tomorrow’s performance at 8. I don’t usually see musicals, but this one earned some Tonys, I believe.

Gosh, I’m wishing everyone a happy Labor Day weekend. (I can’t believe it’s September already.) I hope to be back on Saturday.

Stay safe and be well.

Isn’t this an intriguing photo? I took this picture of two shoes touching one another on the street near Broadway as I was walking up to the Strand bookstore. Do you think someone placed the shoes this way or what?