An opportunity lost
The New York Times Sunday Edition is sexy.
Full, well-rounded, dense with intense capability is pulls you in with experience and credibly. It tells the stories of life's greatest triumphs, celebrations, deceits, betrayals, misdeeds, progressions and missteps. My love and enjoyment of the Sunday Edition, from International headlines to Sunday Style to The New York Times magazine and back is fairly unequaled in all my acquaintance.
And like so many other things that I enjoy with such multi-faceted fervor I attempted to share it.
Which leads me to a rather sad tale of attempts and their unfortunate failure.
My plan was simple. Purchase the Times along with a latte for myself and coffee with cream and real sugar for him (from Bulldog, Nat!) and walk up University Way to his apartment. In my mind we would sit and read the paper. If things went well, they went well and if they didn't I could always just claim to have been in the neighborhood.
But he did not answer the door.
The motherfuckingcuntsuckingbitchshitfuck door.
And he'll never know I was there.
Full, well-rounded, dense with intense capability is pulls you in with experience and credibly. It tells the stories of life's greatest triumphs, celebrations, deceits, betrayals, misdeeds, progressions and missteps. My love and enjoyment of the Sunday Edition, from International headlines to Sunday Style to The New York Times magazine and back is fairly unequaled in all my acquaintance.
And like so many other things that I enjoy with such multi-faceted fervor I attempted to share it.
Which leads me to a rather sad tale of attempts and their unfortunate failure.
My plan was simple. Purchase the Times along with a latte for myself and coffee with cream and real sugar for him (from Bulldog, Nat!) and walk up University Way to his apartment. In my mind we would sit and read the paper. If things went well, they went well and if they didn't I could always just claim to have been in the neighborhood.
But he did not answer the door.
The motherfuckingcuntsuckingbitchshitfuck door.
And he'll never know I was there.