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June 6, 2004 There’s something about riding the bus to downtown in the rain. The need to stay in overrides the need to get out. It began as a light sprinkle, but it was a steady shower by the time I got off on Main Street. I spotted my target across the street between The Hub and Dean’s. When the light changed, I darted across the street and into the EZ Credit Building. Eclectic is an understatement in describing this coffee house. Old furniture juxtaposed next to antique store fixtures. I found my seat next to two chess players when I was really eyeing a comfy looking booth. Pulling out my things I hear check, then checkmate. End game and I have a small table to myself. I’m so into my journal of musings that I almost missed my chance to grab that booth. Once I’m well adjusted, I started banging out a story as one of the chess players bangs out a tune on the old piano behind me. Upon marveling at the Coca Cola clock on the wall, I found myself humming to the music. Cursing to myself, I focused on the jumbled letters before me. I got up and ordered a cup of coffee. The Dusty Hill look alike is still muttering angry rants about someone changing the music. It’s at moot point now because the band playing upstairs almost cancels out the music. I got my coffee to drink with my cigarettes. These two flavors were meant to be together. Various characters come around my table. Seeing me write is I guess to them like watching an artist paint. Some fella told me his hard luck story about how he lost his fiction once . I offered him the ash tray and gave him my hard luck story about my lost writings. The music upstairs stopped and the room crowded. Brother with the hard luck story left and more people came in and went out. I was on my third cup of coffee then and ready to go. Something urged me to stay, but I was ready to go. The second band had already set up and started playing. After another coffee, I hit the streets for the bus stop. The minute I got there, lightning streaked sky. Thunder rolled through the streets, and in the distance, I could hear car alarms going off. All I can think of is that the bus won’t get here in time. With my tail between my legs, I walked back to the closest place to get a cab. The wind’s got a little bit of gust in it, so I tried to keep under cover until I can get to the Rice. I asked the valet and he showed me the door of the building. It took an hour for my cab to get there. The weather got worse as the cab got closer to home. I didn’t think that I would beat the storm, but I did. Now I would weather the storm at home in my dry room. The need to stay in now overrides he desperation to get out. ------------ This is my second installment in the contiuing Adventures in the Asphalt Jungle series. Enjoy!! Email Jose Galvan: galvanj@stthom.edu Tell a friend about this site! ------------ |
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