Look, there are days when waking up at 5am just isn't appealing. Those days are usually Monday-Friday. Now, if getting up at 5am involved consoling Jake Gyllenhaal over his recent break up with whatsherface, then I'm game. Unfortunately, the gods have not aligned the moons yet for that so....come on, Aphrodite!
When my buzzer goes off, my first instinct is to say, "Shit." But reality kicks in and I drag my tired ass out of the bed, weep just a little, and prepare myself for the day. When I leave my apartment and take in the sights and sounds of Park Slope at this hour, I am prone to talking to myself.
I usually talk to myself on the streets, but when no one is around you can really have a a heart to heart with yourself. No one is around to judge you, or think you are crazy. Frankly, the only people I encounter on my trip to the subway are those hitting up the gym and let's be frank here- they are the crazy ones. The gym? At 5 in the morning? A) There is no good television to watch on the treadmill except infomercials for Shamwow and B) The eye candy doesn't usually arrive until after work hours. What's the point?
Back to the personal conversations- they tend to center on what I'm going to teach that day, or framing a potentially difficult conversation I will have with a parent (and there have been pah-lenty of those recently). Currently, I'm just trying to get my mind off how freakin' cold it is.
My favorite stop on my journey is to the local Dunkin'. I'm not a giant fan of their coffee or their breakfast sandwiches, but the appeal of this Dunkin' is an employee that I'll call Alejandro (mainly because that kick-ass Gaga song of the same name is running in my head on loop). Alejandro is my bro and you know I'm serious because I am so not the type to even use the word "bro." But, Alejandro is my bro and we greet each other with that and for these two minutes of the day I feel really masculine. Like I could bench 300lbs and punch through a wall or something. Isn't that what masculine dudes do?
Perhaps it's just the overall use of the word "bro," or the fact that for some reason he feels that I am the type to be called that but it feels good. Our exchanges consist of this:
Alejandro: Hey bro, what'll you have today?
Mr. Vest: Same, bro. You know the drill.
I make sure to cock my head in a way that I am totally owning that sentence when it comes out of my mouth. Isn't that so manly?! God, I just want a carton of Muscle Milk so hard right now. (But the low fat kind, please. Boy's got to watch his figure).
He gives me my medium Hazelnut coffee and a sausage, egg and cheese bagel and I'm off to educate our nation's youth. Feel strong, feeling empowered, feeling so bro-ish.
So, when most of my time zone is sleeping and dreaming, I'm traipsing around the Slope feeling as manly as any man could. And talking to myself. I'm also counting down the seconds until the weekend, but who doesn't?
It should also be noted that Alejandro must be around 70 years old.
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