Six A.M.

That's what I told Suz on the telephone around 1 this morning. That's when I was going to get up and drive to Lewisburg to see my sister.

You're never going to get up in five hours, she told me with a laugh.
You're going to get up, look at the time, and think, oh, she won't mind if I'm going to be a little late, and go right back to sleep again.

Naturally I was indignant. Of course I would get up when I wanted to! This is something I really want to do, I told her in a condescending tone, so of course I'll make it out on time.

I could almost see her eyes twinkle from 900 miles away. Well then I want you to load up my web page tomorrow morning when you get up, and I'll see it in my logs. This morning I awoke to a message with some information she had promised me, and a single line that said simply:

"oh yeah, waking up long enough to show up in my logs then going back to sleep doesn't count."

Crap.

One of these days I'm finally going to admit that after only two months, we already know each other better than we know ourselves. I remembered this fact with an embarassed wince as I crawled back under the covers for the fourth time this morning. At 7:22, I pulled away from the curb on Calvert Street with packed weekend bags and a full tank of gas.

9:45 this evening, I'm sitting in the 7th Street Cafe in Bucknell University across from Cindy relating this story. Of course, she says, I expected you sometime around noon. I sigh and take another sip of my chai.

Ah, chai. Living in Baltimore, I can pull into the The Daily Grind down in Fells Point any time I want and have a cup of some of the best steamed soymilk chai tea I've ever tasted. This evening, being in a college town with a long day behind me, I decided to be a little adventurous.

"Do you have chai?" I asked the girl behind the counter with a smile.

"We sure do," she cheerily replied.

"How do you make it?"

She looked confused, so I added, "Do you use steamed milk?"

This is an important question.

She nodded. I went in for the kill.

"Do you have soy milk?" Another nod.

"Could you make it steamed soy milk?"

"Sure," she replied with all the bravado and confidence of someone who has never before heard of a "steamed soymilk chai tea" combination, much less created one for a picky customer.

She proceeded to dole out the chai mixture (squirted from a syrup bottle, I was happy to note, instead of shoveled from a can or poured from a box) as I shook my head and stared down at my shoes. I've finally done it, I mused. I actually made an order in a coffee house for a beverage so specific and (apparently) obscure that the staff wasn't familiar with it.

My only consolation was realizing that I was in Lewisburg. Here the natives look from a distance into the local Spencer Gifts with visible disgust. I navigate the aisles feeling very much at home, and chuckling at their downright limited selection of dominatrix teddy bears in tiny leather bondage gear, body piercings and mushroom shaped plasma globes. The mall's current pride is their extensive stock car display placed in the halls outside the stores, the local auto parts store has a sign over the lubricant packets in handwritten block letters "GUN OWNERS: WORKS GREAT FOR RIFLES TOO."

Earlier today, we asked a store clerk if we can see his telephone directory to find something to do around town. The yellow pages are contained in a 3/4 inch think book about the size of a half-height Day Timer, covering the span of four counties.
The ratios are amusing. There are (among other things) 13 gun stores listed, but only 2 roller skating rinks and 2 bowling alleys. Compare and contrast that to most suburbs in the People's (Trixie) Republic of Maryland.

I was the bizzare urban culture, not just another participant.

We decided on a bowling alley that happened to be back in town.
We must have circled around this place three times before we decided to call to their desk. Turns out they're underneath the American Legion building. Shoe rentals were $2. The clerk gave me the total and I must have looked confused. "Each?" I asked. When we were done with two sets, the total for the games came to $9.

I should be so lucky to finish a pair of two person games with shoe rentals and snacks back home and leave $12 lighter. Later I talk to Suzanne on her way to the opera and find out that Milwaukee, again, puts even the prices in West Cupcake to shame.

Spent a pleasant dinner at at the Bull Run Inn just a few blocks off campus and enjoyed their local microbrew, the Bison Lager.
I was glad that my sister was around to point it out on the menu or I might not have noticed it at all. One thing I've found about microbrews is that they're all always very distinct, but it's rarely a mistake to order one as the brewmasters are very careful to add local flavor without smacking you in the face with it. If only some major breweries were so careful.

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