Up and down
Up was the way I left the trailer, early Thursday morning. Walked up to Bouldin Creek to meet a client. I didn’t get the note about the meeting time until 9:00 AM so I was a little rushed getting charts printed and scooting out the door.
Bouldin Creek Coffeehouse is on South First Street, and from there, it was just easiest to hop on a much maligned but entirely serviceable Cap Metro bus and ride it across the bridge to make the next appointment, elsewhere.
The “short” buses have a tiered design, and I was sitting in the back. Looking out the window, sitting six feet – or more – above the pavement, on the roadway side of the First Street Bridge offered a view that I rarely get. The sunlight, the river, way up in the sky, I felt like I was flying. In fact, that bus ride cut a good 45 minutes off my walking commute.
My extra time did allow me chance to shop for some more cigars, a couple of relatively inexpensive cedar-wrapped A. Fuentes’ Robustos. A little BBQ, a pocketful of cigars, life was good for a short spell.
I walked home in the wan sunlight, on the lowered pedestrian part of the First Street Bridge, angling off towards Shady Acres. Despite appearances, though, I was at a low ebb. Something was tickling at the back of my brain, something bothering me. Something’s amiss. Perhaps more so than just that miscreant Mercury, too.
It’s endemic, though, in my line of work, listening to other peoples’ troubles, some afternoons it just catch up with me.
