Having prolonged lunch until my head was fizzing, I just went on a bender at the taco joint. I hoped to keep it down to one mile-high veggie taco, but no, it wasn't enough. I ordered a second -- chorizo, please-o. Then frozen yogurt from the tragically named yogurt joint "Smoochie's Lite & Creamy." Something must be wrong, because usually I can't eat this much. Is it for the love of spring that one is inspired to eat one's way across a whole city block?
The best news today is that, after not seeing him for years, I spotted Scotty the Cat back at his outpost. I had heard horrible rumors that everyone's favorite flower store cat -- the "Dean of 23rd Street," if you will -- had run away, had been run over, passed on, and/or retired to Belize. But there he was today, back on the beat, squinting in the sun. He wasn't too eager to socialize: he's a good 3 years older than he was when I last saw him, and perhaps not as game to jump up on shoulders. But it sure was nice to see an old friend.
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