Morning Coffee

Exiting Grand Central Station these last few weeks. I notice him. Standing in the Starbucks line, for the life of God, I cannot understand how people queue for coffee in a paper cup. He is always there, patiently waiting his turn, habitually reading the NY Times. On this particular day he is reading the travel section. God is this a sign? Even if it isn't I am going for it! “You should consider Barbados for your next trip” I quipped. He looks up, gives me the one over, smiles, looks me dead in the eye and responds “only if you join me.”