WHY I DESERVE A FRAPPUCCINO

On Monday night, Sister and I walked from 99th and Riverside (where we saw and ultimately rejected a potential apartment for me to buy) and stopped in the mid-80’s to catch our breath. It was suffocating hot and I commented that I thought I had lost about 10 pounds in sweat, which would have been fabulous if it had been true since I really do need to lose 10 pounds. At that point, Sister grabbed her belly and told me to look at how fat she had become. (Note: Sister has no belly and I am sure this was all a ploy to make me fell better about my own march up the scale). As we sat on the street and compared belly fat, we pledged to eat healthier and try and lose those last 10 pounds.

And for one day I really followed through on our pledge.

Then came the Great Transit Meltdown of August 2007 (not to be confused with the Great Transit Meltdown of January 2007 or the various Great Transit Meltdowns of 2004-6), which ironically happened the day the local papers all ran headlines about raising subway fares, but I digress…

Anyway, Great Transit Meltdown of August 2007 was by far the worst in recent memory. Husband and I left the apartment at 8:15am and walked to our usual subway through conditions not usually found outside of steam rooms. Oscar was there, but instead of giving out papers, he was directing people to use another train since there was no service on the B and C lines. Hot and cranky, we walked to another subway line but help little hope the trains were running since the bus lines looked to be 40 people deep.

Imagine our surprise when we got to the 1-train stop at 79th street and were told the trains were running express to 14th Street. Yippee. Both Husband and I could take that train and walk with only a slight delay to our respective offices. So we entered the platform. There was no air conditioning and it was even hotter than it was outside. People were packed onto the platform and men were literally taking off their business shirts and walking around in undershirts. We waited. And waited. The promised train did not come.

Husband gave up. He went home, sat in the air conditioning, bought a donut and iced coffee and has a relaxing morning. I hate him.

Since I am terrified of my direct supervisor and never know what makes him angry, and since I had promised to come in early, I decided to stick it out. Three trains passed before there was one I could squeeze onto. My train, which thankfully did have air conditioning, pulled out about 20 feet and stopped. We waited for over an hour without moving. A nice man gave me his seat, which I in turn gave to another woman. I said a little prayer of thanks that I had worn flip flops and not high heels. The air conditioning turned off and I slowly began to melt. The man next to me was sweating profusely and, if there had been a spare inch, I would have wriggled away when his sweat began to drip onto my head. I wanted to vomit. After ninety agonizing minutes, the train pulled into Penn Station, 40 blocks from where I started. A ride that normally takes 5 minutes and a walk that would have only taken an hour. I was still 20 blocks from my destination and with the bus lines now 60 people deep, I began to walk.

And this is where it hit me: I deserved a Frappuccino. And not some diet version. I deserved a grande, java chip frap with extra whip. And you know what, walking to work for those extra 20 blocks suddenly seemed a lot more appealing and delicious. And those additional 460 calories I ingested? So worth it.