Verizon wanted my money, T-Mobile wanted my money. I happened to have a username and password for T-Mobile... from back in the day, when I tested the access point in the Starbucks, just across half Broadway from me... So I am back, I am paying for not even a frapuccino... the connection is incredibly fast.
(Wasted on my typing here.)
I am on one of the benches that are placed on center lane of Broadway, above the subway tracks, on every street. I a, facing south. With me on the bench a gentleman reading a printout and a man who appears to be slightly dazed, half asleep. Could this be his corner?
Across 93rd Street, a group of five gentlemen, they are having lively conversations.
Cars are rushing past us. Uptown downtown.
Advent Lutheran Church invites: "Come Share Spirit."
I could not log in on West End Avenue. Users seem to use passwords wherever I tried. Are they experts? Do they know what they are doing?
Am I insane for writing here, connected to a paypoint, when I should just walk two more blocks, go home and post from my own desk?
It is just so much fun to sit outside, to watch the city turn dark, punctured by yellow rectangles. It is fun to listen to tiny pieces of conversations...
Five more minutes please...
