Full speed

After a grisly day, energy sapped by haven woken up at 4am and not gotten back to sleep for real before 5:45 wakie wakie time, everybody at work consumed by similarly low energy and loping negativity, I walked the streets of lower Manhattan looking for something interesting. And there, around 8:30pm along Duane St between Broadway and Trimble Street, he came... Some Hispanic pizza delivery guy -- having delivered a pie -- came sprinting past, his thermal pizza bag drooping by his side. Sprinting, mind you, flat out, and no pizzeria within blocks.

That's what I call a good attitude. He wasn't sitting around kvetching about things being behind and implying it was somebody in the skyscraper across the way's fault. He was porting pies.