Yesterday we had the worst storm ever in New York. It starts off with hail, then sleet, then a pounding onslaught of snow, and the wind is blowing so hard it's decimating umbrellas. Inside I'm warm as toast, but then it hits me: I forgot to order that self-help book for Dad.
Against my better judgment I put on a coat and gloves and scarf and fight my way through the monsoon to Barnes & Noble. I can just barely find the place buried eight feet deep in slush, and by the time I stumble through the door I'm so frazzled I'm literally crawling up to the Self-Help section to find the book.
I fight my way back, slipping and sliding on the black ice, soaked to the skin and dripping icicles, but finally make it home -- four hours after I left. I pull the book out of the bag so I can wrap it, and then I notice I've made a horrible mistake.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
2 comments:
Hey, it's not that bad. Now he can make great sushi and other rice-involving dishes, instead of money.
Aren't you supposed to get an even worse storm this weekend/week? I clearly pick the best time ever to visit New York...
Why not just order it online?
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