Early burly

I went to bed an hour early last night, got a good night's sleep, and awoke to a beautiful 70-degree day. A day without a jacket. I never iron in the morning, but today I ironed my periwinkle Calvin Klein shirt, the one people always say brings out my eyes. I strolled down Carroll Street, admiring a building I'd never noticed before. I got to the subway 15 minutes earlier than usual, just as an M was pulling in at Union Street. I normally take the R, but the M gets me to where I'm going. I got a seat on a fairly empty train. I pulled out Long Day's Journey Into Night, which I am currently reading. Heavy stuff for the subway, but a good read. The train zipped along in record time. Out onto the street, the sun streaming down, I took a few deep breaths, falling in step with the hustle and bustle of another morning on Wall Street. I took my time, since I was a few minutes early. I feel good today, I thought, calm, relaxed.

"WHAT THE FUCK!" I yelled all of a sudden, as I felt my left arm go wet and cold. My shirt and pants were soaked. A maintenance worker was adjusting a water hose outside a building and turned it on, shooting a cold spray of water all over me. I froze for a moment, then turned around slowly to scowl at him. I must have had a death stare, because he apologized and then ran into the building.

I turned around and continued down Broad Street. No one looked or said anything. I just muttered under my breath, dripping with water. Then I stepped in a pothole. Time to get back on my regular schedule.