Tuesday, June 14, 2005

Good Morning Pride Fest!

We stopped blocks from the festival, crowds and barricades preventing a closer touch down. The sun and heat seared me as we hopped out of the air conditioned cab. I was dehydrated and cranky, my fluid levels down a couple of quarts. Of coffee. Coffee isn't the priority for some that it is to me. Some are resolutely opposed to making time for it, even the short minutes for take out. My temper mimicked the abrupt rise in the mercury level and our quickening pace.

"Could we just slow down please?"

"I've got to meet with my contacts before it gets too late."

"I'm starving.
I need breakfast."

"Well nobody's gonna be selling it this late.
Get chicken-on-a-stick."

You know, if you had a cell phone we could meet up later.
It's really inconsiderate of you not to have one."

"You're the only it seems to inconvenience."

"Well that's because everyone calls you on MY cell phone.
If you had a goddamn phone you wouldn't be RUSHING me all the time.
I'm hung over.
My head is pounding.

"Hung over?!
I'M not hung over and I drank WAY more than you did.
Besides, you slept for NINE hours, isn't that the cure?
Look, there's Starbucks."

"Well you've got at LEAST fifty pounds on me...
Jesus, Starbucks?
No way, they're The Local Businesses Destroying Evil Coffee Empire.
Besides they over roast and they've got hazelnut in everything."

"Get something at that food cart"

I want REAL coffee!

"Well get something at the festival.
Let's go."

"You know what?
I think we should meet up later at the main stage.
Yeah, I'll see you later."

"Well then I need your cell phone."

"You WHAT?!

"I've gotta call these people to set up meetings with them..."


"Bob's on at three forty five."


The more I walked the less I stomped, slowly decompressing. I wandered the surrounding blocks in my favorite solitary pursuit, looking at buildings. The sights of the varied architecture in the truly beautiful city was a palliative, gradually dulling and draining my anger as it engaged me, a visual poultice wrapped around my sore head. The Capital hovered like an apparition over it all, its huge and glowing white dome sparkled in the early afternoon light, like a white planet rising above the horizon, or a moon sized carved alabaster Easter egg. I found an open cafe and ordered smaller ovum scrambled, ham and a bagel. I sat cross legged on a wire chair at a wire table in a square of shade on the terrace, my tall steaming cup at hand. I poured off a few sips into a smaller cup to cool, and slowly repeated the proceedure; pour and cool and sip, pour and cool and sip, pour and cool and sip. Folks milled past on their way to the concourse laughing and smiling, old and young, men and women and some in between. I could hear the murmur of the crowd, and my enthusiasm stirred again, slowly starting to catch up to theirs. I drew a long sip from the paper cup. The temperature of the coffee and my blood had cooled reaching perfect equilibrium. I finished up, bussed the table, and suited up in sunglasses and hat. I stood and brushed the crumbs off, stretched and hiked up my shorts. Still wiltingly hot. Should have worn drawers. I began my walk down the hill eagerly, drawn toward the commotion, warmed by the now welcoming sunshine.
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