A Mint Julep Morning

The strap to my sandal had come loose when stepping off the bus, but there were a lot of passengers behind me, and I knew better than to stop and fix it.  Once in the bus bay, I stepped quickly to my right to let the pedestrian traffic by, but had overestimated my own stealth in unstrapped heels and went over on my ankle.  To my surprise, it wasn’t the sharp pain or the embarrassment of almost falling in public that horrified me most, but the gentle thud on the back of my head and the subsequent flurry of feathers in my peripheral vision as I stumbled.  

My ears recognized the soft warble, but my eyes were momentarily frozen, unable to look over and verify the fear.  The moment passed quickly enough, and I turned my gaze to find myself staring at the pigeon that had just flown into the back of my head - or rather the pigeon whose flight path I had just interrupted with my head.

Not even a small fraction of the way to work yet, I wondered if I should turn around, wash my hair, and call it a day.  I chose to persevere, all the while painfully recalling the amount of times I had recently referred to my “messy bun” hairdo as a filthy bird nest.

In an usual turn of events, I was able to get one of the last seats on the subway.  Happily sitting down, I exhaled as my lips worked their way into a grin.  I put my face in my hands to allow myself a moment to laugh at the situation when I felt something warm and soft press up against my ear. Startled, I jumped back and opened my eyes to find myself staring at the head of the cat that was sticking out of the shirt of the young man sitting beside me.

“He likes you” the young man said.

“Ah – " was my brilliant response.

“His name is Neo.”

“Hi Neo” I replied, wondering what the hell was going on with my day.  It couldn’t possibly be past 7:45 a.m.

“He doesn’t normally like people.  That’s why I carry him in my shirt – to let him know he’s safe.  You must be different”

“Oh I don’t think so” I replied confidently.

“What’s your name?”

Resisting the desperate urge to say ‘Trinity’, I volunteered “Annie.”

“Hi Annie, I’m Patrick” he said happily.  “How are you?”

“Oh I’m just great, Patrick, thanks.  How are you?”

“I’m good, thanks.”  He was nervous. “Um ... I grow my own mint.”

“Wha – um.  Okay.  Cool, Patrick.  Good for you.”

There was a long pause as he struggled with his thoughts.

“I make a mean mojito, or mint julep if that’s your poison.” He laughed nervously.

“Could Neo and I interest you in one?”

“A mint julep?”

“Yes. Or- or a mojito.”

“Thank you Patrick, but I don’t think so”

“Oh. Fine.”

The train rattled to a slow halt in the dark underground.  Patrick and I were both frozen and silent.  Neo, on the other hand, was rubbing my shoulder with his head and purring with impressive gusto for a scaredy cat.

“I’m sorry” I said.

Was this honestly happening?  Did a man with a cat sticking out of shirt just ask if I was interested in a mint julep before 8 a.m?  With the wealth of events that had happened to me on the subway in the past year, I had a hard time believing I could convince my friends of this one.

“It’s fine” he replied.

I got off at the next stop, giving Neo and Patrick a small wave and a smile.  Patrick waved back.  Neo just stared. 

“Totally worth the three extra blocks” I said to myself as I watched the train pull away and began to walk.

“Totally waiting for the next train” I said turning back to the platform as the strap to my sandal snapped.