Hitting The Neighborhood Joint after trekking The Suburban Shopping Mall

Caryl and I went to Towson Town Center directly after work because I desperately needed to score some birthday presents for Sarah, who turns 30 on Friday. I felt ridiculous with my large umbrella in tow, because the sun was relentless, and at that time was winning its ongoing arm wrestling match with the thunder and lightning, but I felt that the sky would tear open at some point...

My sister successfully returned an item to what I call a "young person's clothing store," then we headed to another such place to see if she could find earrings to replace a favorite pair of hers that had been lost. Score again! In a stroke of pure serendipity, she found the very same earrings and another pair in a buy one, get one half off sale... Later, another vendor's major sale yielded her a $40 skirt for a mere $5!

We were accosted by a kiosk salesman on the way to the store where I wanted to shop for Sarah, and unfortunately, we did not escape without purchasing some of his wares. I actually hate mall kiosks, but that is a post for another time(actually, I can't believe anyone would be interested in reading that, so I'll just skip it).

Eventually, I made it to said store and found a few items worthy of my good friend. While we were inside, The lights began to flicker and enormous brash crashes struck fear into the hearts of shoppers, who wondered audibly "WHAT WAS THAT?!" By this time, Caryl and I each had about 4 unweildy bags, and just the one umbrella. We'd already planned to hail a cab home to the city, but the fear that finding a free one in the torrent of rain might prove difficult began to creep in. Nevertheless, our mission accomplished, we left by way of the street entrance. I braced myself for a long wait.

But kismet events were the order of the evening. Not three feet out of the store, a cab began to drive straight toward us, just at the moment we left the mall. I signaled the driver, and we got inside as though this had all been previously arranged.

Halfway home, I realized I'd set nothing down for dinner. I looked at Caryl; she looked at me. One World here we come (who knew that place would turn out to be my saving grace?). In the half dark world of a summer storm, and the eerie resilience of the sun emblazoning the sides of buildings as in a Hopper painting, we walked to our neighborhood joint for solace, for a haven, for something hot and comforting...

Sharp horn jazz cut the air and the conversations of lovers and friends. Beer glasses clanked, forks scraped plates, the hostess cheerily said "It's Happy Hour All Night!" On the way to be seated, I saw someone I recognized.

One of my professors sat alone, bent over papers, a glass of half drunk beer making a ring on the table.

After briefly introducing him to my sister, I asked him if he got my last two e-mails... He looked guilty. I hadn't meant to put him on the spot. It had just seemed unlike him not to reply quickly. In any case, I quickly assured him that we could get together whenever he had the chance... then we moved on to our seats. Caryl concurred that he is quite nice to look at.

A Yeungling and a mushroom, spinach, & goat cheese pizza later, we headed back home. The prof looked up in time to see us walk by. I waved, then headed back out into the storm.