The Financial District means business.

Dear Guy in Starbucks,

I applaud you. No. That's not enough. I'll give you a standing ovation. No. I will start the Wave at a football game for you.

Here you are in your new home office/local Starbucks. You tested the limits of technology. The outlet is on the ceiling, what'd you say? "Fuck that, gravity is on my side." Sir, you don't even think twice about not owning a cell phone. I mean, why would you?  You have your house phone that can easily travel with you. You also (sadly, so, so, sadly, not pictured) came prepared with your tighter-than-skin-tight Under Armour shirt and sweatpants pulled up to your chest. Your whole Saturday evening was just a treat to yourself which turned out to be a treat to myself, as well. Thank you, sir. Thank you for this moment that I will cherish for about another week and then forget all about. I hope your business does well in 2010, and if I ever hear a dial tone again, I'll think of you.

Love,

Your not so secret admirer because my name is right up there at the top of this post. Hi.