I left Dave's place in the not-quite darkness of 5:15am. A white-haired man in shorts and a t-shirt loitered in the middle of the street. He had a mug of some hot-looking bevi and was watching his unleashed boxer sit a few yards away, also in the middle of the street. I eyed the boxer eyeing me and mentally willed it to stay put. It didn't move and my attentions turned to the stuffed, black, body bag like trash bags lining the street. On more than one occasion, I've been surprised and freaked out by animals taking advantage of man's waste. Possums, raccoons, large fat rats...yeah. It's not the kind of thing you're ready for at 5:15am, in the dark, in a half asleep state. But this morning I was ready. I stepped loudly so whatever might be munching would know that I was coming. But nothing was munching. No raccoons giving me the evil eye before disappearing into the sewer.
At the train station, I bought a ticket. I turned on the Ricky Gervais show on my Ipod. I got on the train and dozed off until Grand Central. At Grand Central, even tho I've been there timeless times before, I headed the wrong direction on the platform and didnt notice until I was far away from where I wanted to be before I turned around. The 6 train was crowded and people getting on started carry wet umbrellas. I started to form an exit plan to protect the laptop in my backpack.
There are tons of Starbucks all over the city. They keep opening more and more (and more and more and more) so that at some stores, you can see a competing Starbucks from the one you just used for it's restroom. As probability would have it, there was one right outside of the subway stop. I rushed inside and covered the laptop with the plastic grocery bag I use to contain my wet swim gear after practice. Better a soggy swim bag than a destroyed laptop. I didn't even look up. I didn't think about coffee or the poor people that had to start serving it at 6am. Just in, cover, and out.
Unfortunately for me, I neglected to bring an umbrella up to Dave's last night, so while the laptop remained in a dry and cared-for ecstasy, I got completely soaking wet before and after swim practice. As I stood under some scaffolding, waiting for a light to change before I dashed out into the rain, I wondered why I had even bothered to try and blow dry my hair. I passed a Duane Reade, which surely had a stash of umbrellas for a small free, but I figured it was faster just to rush. And so I got lazy and soaked.
Lucky for me, I've got a powerful little heater under my desk and as I've been writing this note about the details of a most exciting morning, the bottoms of my pants have dried out and the skin on the end of my toes is beginning to crisp nicely.