Let me tell you, if you’ve had yourself a crazy busy day where you barely had time to choke down some lunch and you realize that you’ve been sitting with your shoulders at ear level for hours, then you better get with the ‘beer, bath, book’ program. Of course I didn’t start out my day thinking these were my plans for the night, but as the day progressed and 5 o’clock approached it dawned on me that I was in desperate need of the following ingredients:
· a hot bubble bath,
· with a beer propped on the side of the tub,
· and a book: I’m currently reading Robert Rave’s Spin which follows the transformation of a Mid-Western guy who moves to NYC with the hope of being invited to the kind of parties that end up on Page Six and whose dream comes true in part because he begins working with a major PR player who is a mega-bitch!
So here’s how my after work plans went down… peddle to the metal I hit the city streets bobbing and weaving inside the little bit of traffic I encountered (funny since the city is in Grand Prix ‘panic at the disco’ mode), narrowly escaping a serious traffic snarl on the Orleans/40 overpass situated right after the rotting, decrepit, and sagging former destination spot, Old Town Mall. I continued on, jetting down a narrow side road at the base of the overpass and linking up to Calvert Street where I was able to double-back to Cathedral and pass the beginnings of the last First Thursdays event (in the park near my apartment) managing to spy a parking place right in front of my spot and whip into it in no time flat. You can imagine my joy at ‘everything working out’ which really solidified that my plan was a good one. I probably leapt out of the car, but I also could be exaggerating; mentally I leapt out of the car, grabbed my bags, opened up my back gate, did not remotely take in my beautiful surroundings, just kicked in the door and immediately made a beeline for the kitchen where I stashed my beer, plucking one out of its carrier and putting it in the freezer to ensure its icy coldness. I then made my way to the bathroom where I commenced to running hot water and mixing in cold until I had juuuusst the right temperature to allow me to comfortably sink in and ease my tension, without burning my ass off. Hitting my office/catch-all I dropped all evidence of work and civilization (i.e. clothes) and hurried to the bathroom to check on the volume of water and bubbles, dipping my big toe to ensure proper temps…finally I whizzed back to the kitchen, grabbing the beer out of the freezer, popping the top and tossing it on the counter, snatching my book off the ottoman and heading back to my version of a ‘man-cave’, the bathtub. Leading with one big toe, I happily felt the silky smoothness of the bubble bath before the heat woke up the circulation in my foot, encouraging me to eagerly step fully into the bath and sink into the water, bubbles enveloping me, propelling the sweet unremarkable scent of the bubble bath to filter through the air. I sank down to my chin, and carefully pulled the washcloth the beer was sitting on towards me so as not to lift out of the water; grabbing it to take a deeply satisfying cold gulp cooling my insides as my skin began to heat up. Happily I grabbed the book, holding if aloft with one hand, revisiting the NYC PR world while the realities of mine floated away and disintegrated just like the soap bubbles.