Yesterday, the temp in NYC reached 87° with 93% humidity. Sane people hid someplace air-conditioned. I dragged twenty-seven pounds of demo equipment into Manhattan for an afternoon presentation.
For this fun, I elected to wear a long, short-sleeved dress casual enough to be worn with Birkenstocks and without stockings. Underneath, I wore a half-slip to keep my legs from sticking to the dress.
If the weather wasn't the first sign that my day was not going to be stellar, the baseball game that filled up every parking lot around the stadium - and my train station - was. I had to park in the most remote lot, about a half-mile away from the train platform. Thankfully, I still made the train! By the time I got to the presentation, I was sweat-soaked but a quick stop in the ladies' revealed that I didn't look as bad as I felt - phew! I made it through the demo, answered questions, and packed up for my return trip. As I walked back toward Penn Station, reflecting that the bad parking karma had balanced the good presentation karma, I felt something very odd around my stomach, as if I'd undone a loose belt, and then I tripped. Recovering awkwardly due to all the gear I was lugging, I found myself standing on Sixth Avenue mid-town, in a puddle of my own slip - the elastic of which had given up. Since nothing really fazes New Yorkers, I stepped out of the puddle, whisking the garment off the sidewalk and into one of my bags. If anyone I knew saw my shining moment, they did not say hello and, for that, I am deeply thankful.