It is now almost exactly three hours since I stepped off the train at Grand Central Terminal this morning and walked up Park Avenue to the gym.
I am still wet.
My shoes sit stuffed with paper towels and my socks are lying next to them. I am wearing borrowed socks from the gym. I hung the clothes in the sauna and they are still wet.
I have not experienced a downpour like this since I left Louisiana. The sky opened up and the streets become rivers with water so high that the gutters overflowed on to the sidewalks, sweeping all debris off the walkways. I sloshed with each step.
My briefcase, and contents, are wet. My pants are still wet and my shirt is still wet.
I sit here not quite dripping but far from dry.
Another day in paradise. You betcha.
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