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Of course I would run into that old friend from junior high this morning of mornings, when I got up too late to do anything but brush my teeth, slap on some deodorant and stuff my greasy, overdue-for-washing hair into a lumpy ponytail. We both jumped into the subway elevator right before it closed. And he was as sweet as he ever was. I've always been fond of this guy. He's one of only two or three people from junior high worth knowing. Man, he rules. Even when I was sort of a snotty brat back then, following the example of a snotty-brat mutual friend of ours, he remained staunchly friendly, kind and funny.

And best of all, when we played catch-up, he didn't seem at all pitying, condescending, or fazed in the least by the fact that I'm still an undergraduate at my advanced age. And he knew me when I was an overachiever. He's simply not a snob, that's all.

Man, he rules.

To celebrate our meeting, I finally stopped at the fruit cart on 22nd street that I've been eyeing these past few weeks, and bought a 3-lb, $9 bag of cherries. Sweet indulgence.

This is way too many cherries for anyone to eat. I must see if anyone else wants some.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:00 AM | shower me with attention