Where the sun doesn’t shine

Sometimes when you wakeup, and your not quiet shore where you are, this was one of those mornings. The thing is that on those mornings our normally in a new place, I was in my bed, just had a bad hangover, in the smallest apartment ever built. This morning would not be so different from any other morning, except it was almost nine AM and I had a meeting at nine in the financial district and I was in Chelsea, with last nights remains on top of me.

I pushed her of and crawled from underneath the sheets, the heat and humidity was suffocating. There was only one breaker for the apartment and if you put the AC you had to turn it of before you go to sleep or left, because it would kill the power. I went to the kitchen, or if you can call it that, it was more like the hallway to the front door, heated some water on the stow and poured it into a cup, stirred the some instant coffee into the hot water and lit a cigarette. I turned on the shower and prayed she wouldn’t wake up. The shower was nice, but way to short. I got dressed and hurried out the door. On my way down the stairs I ran into a cockroach, but I didn’t have time to step on it, so I just said “Hi”. When I got out I realized, my bike was in some garage and I had no money or time to get it or figure out where the garage was anyway. So cab was the best way or was it, maybe the subway. I didn’t have time to ponder this now so I would just walk to the train and if a cab crossed my path I’d take it.

As I was crossing Ninth Avenue, my phone rang and as I answered a cab almost hit me, but lucky me it was free and I had bin to faded to yell at the cabby for almost hitting me on a read light. I waited with answering the phone and got in, gave directions to the driver, and answered the call.

It was my lawyer, asking where I was. I told him something about traffic being crazy and me being there in five minutes. I think he bought it, but if he didn’t who kears, he works for me right, he’s there to make me look good. I hung up and tried to look respectable and sober. I just hoped that my lawyer was over there holding the fort and making me look good. Last time we meet he was almost an hour late, so what if I’d only got there only five minutes before him, he was still late.

The cab inched down Broadway, I tried to strategize how to look and act sober and on point. Not only did I have to look it, I had to get all I wanted. Where the fuck did I park my bike. The phone range agene, it was my friend Jon. He’d left early last night, and just wanted to make shore I had got up and made it to the meeting. Jon kept talking but I wasn’t really listening. The Taxi was not moving, traffic was bad, pedestrians where overtaking us. I told the driver “This is good”, he punched the meter, I took out my clip it was fat, but it was all singles. I was able to pay the meter plus tip.

More to come

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