Dear Diary:
It’s 8 a.m. on a Monday, and I am part of the alternate-side ritual, sitting in my car for 90 minutes until the street sweeper and the ticket cops have done their jobs. My street of choice is Riverside Boulevard over in Trumpville.
Three cars ahead of me is a black Lincoln S.U.V. Directly behind me is a black Mitsubishi S.U.V. I am speed-dating the Monday crossword when I catch, out of the corner of my eye, a bicycle riding past me. It slows down as it approaches the Lincoln. From behind me I hear a car horn honk. At which point the bicycle stops, turns toward the horn, and reverses direction.
Through the window of the Mitsubishi an exchange takes place. In goes a plastic bag and, in return, money is passed out. Breakfast has been delivered.
I later learn that the Mitsubishi driver has several menus on his front seat from local coffee shops who will deliver anywhere, including to parked cars. Clearly it is important to be very specific when describing the car to be delivered to. Sort of like an apartment number.
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