January

I wake up early. The dog was barking at something, maybe it was that cat that had discovered her caged in our house the night before. Or maybe the neighbor, a professional athlete, coming home from somewhere very late. Either way, the woman got up and got some water and some eyedrops. I didn't get out of bed yet.

90 minutes pass. Have some sex, and the woman puts on some coffee and brings in the newspaper. I enjoy both and we walk the dog. Long walk because it is a beautiful morning. As we get home, another woman is visiting the professional athlete neighbor. She looks like a club skank. I go to the garage and get out the motorcycle. It's a nice enough day for a little ride around town.

I get en email from an acquaintance who has a road bike for sale that he thinks she might be interested in. $600. I accept the offer contingent on a physical inspection. We grab $100 from the envelope of cash on the fridge and hop on the moto, planning to put down earnest money.

The drive over is nice. She's getting pretty good on the motorcycle. It was a great idea to get her that helmet and jacket. We find the house and have a look at the bike. Everything looks great and we hand him the $100. We'll be by to pick it up in the next couple of days.

Back on the moto, we head to a coffee shop we saw on the ride over that we had never seen before. We grab 12 oz of beans one of my favorite blends, and a stiff americano. The barista jokes with me after I ask for 1 1/2 inches of room in my 12 oz americano. She acts as though I am going to fill it with cream. I don't tell her that I actually just like it strong. We fill the tank with gas and I check to see that the tire pressure is good on the bike. Both tires are perfect, and it costs $11.67 to top her off. Back on the bike and we run another couple of errands, filling the panniers with cold beer, snacks, and supplies for this evening's feast of shrimp squash risotto.

I park the bike and we bring the goodies in. The dog meets us in the kitchen, surprised to see us come through the back door. We put away the things and sit on the couch for a few minutes. We watch the girls we had seen earlier (in a cab) pull up to the athlete's house in a nice new Camaro. We just watch the girls. They look like they spend a lot of time at downtown nightclubs. The woman and I relax. She has a massage later and I plan to run my normal 7-mile run. There is football on, and we flip back and forth between the game, The Royal Tennenbaums, and Sin City. I explain to her how every shot in the movie Sin City corresponds perfectly to a panel in the Frank Miller novel. We make love in the afternoon light on the couch. No one from the street notices. We come at the same time.

We sit after the sex for a few minutes and she stares blankly at the football game and scratches my back. I throw cheetos to the dog. Soon, she leaves for her massage appointment. I change into my tights and I leave for my run. The Roots, NAS, Beirut, Linkin Park, DJ Shadow, Arcade Fire, and others help me around the run. My legs feel good and it is all working. It's cold and on the first lap there are quite a few serious runners out. I nod at them, especially after passing them a 2nd or third time. The music pushes me home. I think back on the day and I realize I should write it up. It is a Sunday in January, and it was a sufficient adventure for this day.