At 7:21pm I'm in Center City on Pine St, or Locust, or Lombard, or Spruce, or one of the 20-somethings. It definitely takes a lot of time and work to find a place to park. I'm happy that I've mellowed out enough to be able to keep my cool. I'm cussing and muttering shit about suicide and murder, but at the base of it, I'm still reasonable. I'm relaxed. I end up parking medium-far away, and not in a great spot. I've learned this lesson too many times. "Park really far away in a great spot, and ride a bicycle." Well - no cycle this time. So I park and shut up.
I'm here to see Mike Bradley, who I don't see too often when he's dating. Mi amigo, mi amor! I'm excited to see him, and glad that he txt'd me to come over. Mike dates regularly and for long periods of time. He lives in Philly with a cool girl that he deserves, so that makes this trip about catching up as much as hanging out. I drank a lot, then we got a veggie burger. Beautiful night in the city. Warm and breezy. We talked. I slept in my van on some random hairy corner. In spite of traffic and motherfuckers, I slept fine. I got up at 8 and put on some Jack Johnson. I drove back to Kennett Square while everyone else was getting to work.
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