I needed to find the guys and tell them. I caught up with the boys about 10 minutes later and told them everything. Dan just stood there in shock for a few minutes. “Are you fucking kidding?! Are you sure? Did she see you?” He screamed, stabbing the fresh snow with his poles every other word. “No, she was kind of too busy to notice me. What do you want me to do?” I asked, knowing that Dan is too nice of a guy to tell her she’s on her own and kick her out of our executive cabin. “Nothing. Don’t say a word! I don’t want it to wreck our time. Leave it alone. I’ll deal with the slut when I get home.” He said as calmly as he could. The three of us headed back down towards the lodge to change, buy some groceries (and liquor) and find Katy. When we walked in there she was, sitting by the fire with the instructor, twirling her hair around her manicured fingers and giggling. “Oh hey babe.” Dan said to her, walking over and shaking the instructor’s hand. “Hey man. I’m Dan. Thanks for looking. This is where you can say ‘Eww’,but it more or less bounced off of me, like hail and icy rain will. I cursed and kept walking down the street, bumping into a few people who were off balance from the unaccustomed, poorly distributed weight of six layers of clothes. As I walked I felt my ears and cheeks start to burn from the cold, and thought about putting on my gloves, but I hate gloves. I was about halfway to my office in the Financial District when a woman stopped in front of me, blocking my path, and said to me ‘Are you ok?’ I’m often stopped on the streets in New York. Three quarters of the people who stop me need directions, especially down here in the south part of Manhattan – the streets are built on old colonial footpaths, which were built on old Indian trails, which were built to track game along meandering streams long gone. It isn’t like midtown – a neat, ordered grid of numbered streets – it is very confusing. I’m happy to help folks who stop me and ask for directions,.
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