Before leaving downtown Albany, we pull through a McDonald’s for a Happy Meal for little Mike’s lunch and a hot coffee pick-me-up for me. While we wait to pull up to the window, I text Robyn who is presently handling a dozen or so students at The School of Art all on her own.
On way. We need to talk, Blondie.
I still haven’t arrived at the window when I receive a text response.
Love it when you call me Blondie. Too bad we’re not lesbians. Oh well. Told you Cuther rocks. Be here now. Students suck.
Michael devours his cheeseburger Happy Meal while we make the drive over the long, tall, bridge that spans the Hudson River and separates Albany County from the more rural hillsides of Rensselaer County. The lack of conversation is just fine by me. Too many things running through my head
