i was bouncing in my seat all day at work yesterday. a big package had been shipped and i was to pick it up not far from my office after work. a big, exciting package. i tried to play games of patience but they weren't working - by 2 PM i was already ready to bolt, and i'm usually not so antsy so early! i finally left and walked to the pickup address and got a big box, bigger than i thought it would be. it was awkwardly large, difficult to carry; i took it to the subway and had to be very careful - with it hoisted on a shoulder i kept bumping the box against awnings, cielings, and just anything hanging.

games of patience... the metrocard machine wouldn't take my debit card after repeated swipes and i had no cash - what was i to do? finally, another machine accepted it. i got on a train. i got a seat and kept the box close by, with my hand on it, so that it wouldn't fall over. good - my shoulder and arms were tired from the walk to the train station.

my stop. another spell of wrestling with the box, which is like a sail in the wind, hoisted on my shoulder. down the stairs from the elevated train, across the street, and to my apartment.

i set it down on the floor of the living room and look at it for a second, trying real hard to resist the kid-at-christmas phenomenon. i put my keys down and take off my jacket, and i have to go to the bathroom. games of patience. then i take a knife and carefully cut off the tape. games of patience. it takes some wrangling to get the box apart, and when i do, it takes some further wrangling to take out this mass of bubblewrap and paperwrap. games of patience. slowly i unwrap what i can, using the knife where i need to. and then, there, in the middle of my living room, sits a Pogliaghi Italcorse from the early 1970s.

My future Sunday Rider.

aaaaaaahhhhhh.