Couple Wednesdays ago was a perfect Wednesday. I've always liked Wednesdays for some reason. Could very well be my favorite day. I like using Wednesdays as a marker, since it's mid-week. If I haven't gotten things I need done by Wednesday I'm either screwed or use the night to catch up. Plus, I have a certain degree of respect for the day of the week that has the most letters. It's over all others by at least one letter. That takes balls.

This Wednesday in particular was really nice. Gary took the train down. We met at Grand Central then I dragged him downtown to pick up a Gameboy Advance SP.

Sidebar: That little machine kicks some serious assage! I wanted one for a while and when I finally decided to just do it, I was actually blown away. The light! The light! So cool being able to play anywhere at any time. I had a worm light for my old Gameboy Advance but it never worked right. Well, it worked but there was always a problem getting the perfect angle with it. There was either glare from the screen or just not enough light. I'm seriously in love with the SP. It's also cool not having to buy batteries. Helps me save money. I'll get my money's worth in no time. Definitely a worthy investment.

Paul told me about a place downtown (way downtown) which may be the only place where the SP is available. At least the silver one anyway. Everywhere else I checked was sold out. The only drawback was the fact that I had to buy two games with it. But, no problem, I traded in my old Gameboy Advance a couple days after for store credit at GameStop, so all in all the deal wasn't bad.

We had no real plans after the mini-trek downtown. We ended up at Central Park. The weather was perfect. Strolled around and talked. Wanted to rent a boat but they were closed. Rented bicycles instead. I hadn't been on a bicycle in years. Not just one or two years, I'm talking almost ten. I thought I was fucked. I don't buy that 'once you learn how to, you never forget'-bull. My legs were wobbly. Gary on the other hand was a show-off. Now, I must point out that these bikes didn't even have handle breaks. How the hell does a bike NOT have handle breaks after 1970? Took me a while to get used to peddling backwards to stop but once I got the hang of it and my legs got out of 'what-the-fuck-are-you-doing'-- mode, things were ok and I didn't feel like I'd die. The praying slowed down a little.

When we had to go into traffic, the praying started up full speed again. Prayer paired with an "Oooooo'k, I'm gonna die" whisper. Kudos to bike messengers. I am not worthy. There was this part when I was doing really well with cabs and such rushing by me. That was ruined when I realized the upward slope. Then aller...er I mean ...my cold (I refuse to believe I have allergies. It's ridiculous. Even though Claritin helps) got the better of me and I had to stop and walk the rest of the way. Gary was long gone, the bastard. I coughed, sneezed and wheezed my way up the hill. Plotting revenge against Gary in the form of rollerblades since I'm not half bad.

"He's so far ahead how long would it take him to notice I'm lying in the trench with squirrels gnawing on my ears, trying to get my eyes for their next winter storage."

We laid on the grass after. Gary napped and I played my SP and people-watched. A couple not so far from us was fooling around. I'm pretty sure the guy was fingering the girl he was with. Some old guy watched from some distance away.