Nighthawk.

Getting shut in elevator doors.
Bitter and irritated doormen.
Pissed off drivers of all sorts.
Buses.
Near misses.
Cold Toes and fingers.
Drinking a pretty large coffee in two minutes flat.
50 cent coffee "refills" at Starbucks. Same cup now for two weeks. Yep. "Get a card", they say, "and refills are free.". Oh? Maybe I will.


Today I went to what ended up being a wrong address. When I asked what floor the company was on the doorman muttered, "ain't here no more", too busy looking at an assortment of Porn DVD's to even look up. The salesman was standing there with his big bag of porn and asked me who I worked for as I talked to Kid over the radio. The dude was probably a messenger turned porn-pusher. A logical next step. Porn is one industry that likely survives a recession better than most. Funny thing about that wrong address is that the sender was in the same building as the receiver! Kid chimes over the radio and says, "you're not gonna believe this, but those guys are in the same building you just picked up from". I still had to ride but the folks who sent the package payed me to take it 16 floors up the elevator from their office.

Riding over the Brooklyn Bridge heading toward Brooklyn at night is, I think, more spectacular that riding toward the city in the day. You get a good spanning view of a lot of the bridges over the Hudson. Could also be the positivity generated from pointing in the direction of home.

Last runs of the day were wild tonight. I came downtown holding 2 packages with four pickups and they all had a deadline of 5:30 or 6. I ended up charging down through Wall st. and back up to the East Village to handoff a bunch of Chinese Herbs to Julio from Cyclehawk. I was sprinting through the night with my pack dodging people, cars and animals. Up Bowery and down Bowery to Grand and then Centre and finally 120 Chambers for the finale. I enjoy the evening rush. By 6pm everything is quiet.

We are the Meems and Pro.