Visions of Hotness

Last night I walked from my office on Wall St. all the way home to 94th St. That's roughly 6miles people! It was a seamless journey in my comfy Uggs (yes, Tracey--THANK YOU!).

Along the way I stopped to get bubble tea at our usual spot since the strike had cancelled our weekly fun. Trudging along listening to my tunes, I was surprised how many of my songs were about Walking (Walking Away by Craig David came on TWICE--what good is a shuffle feature?).

Anyway, as I ambled I spied many many HOT men. Of course, half of them were obviously gay, another 1/4 had girlfriends attached, but the ones that walked alone...hubba hubba hello. I was tempted to pull a Jo and strike up a conversation with one such man who walked with me from midtown to the UES mark (60th)...we kept lapping each other--but he had a condom hat on...and we know my resolution not to start up with a guy with head covering! BAD.

I met no one but the possibility as it loomed was pretty terrific. On some level that was enough. There were a few who were going the wrong way--I was walking uptown and these fellas were heading downtown--we locked eyes, smiles curled our lips, but the moment passed and we walked on--apart. That's the thing about this city--you never know when or where you'll run into a new who.

So, two hours later when I arrived home I realized that all I'd managed to consume that day was a Venti Mocha Frap and a Regular Cold, Coconut Tea with Milk and Tapioca (yes, that bubbles are little, black, gelatinous balls o' tapioca!)--incidentally those are my signature drinks at the beverage haunts I frequent. Was too tired to pick up the phone and dial up some dinner, so I flopped on my bed devoting innumerable hours to mindless TV.