Or it could be an hour and a half of sweaty samba, followed by another hour and a half of roasting and suffocating in hot yoga.
Whatever it was, by the time I got home at 11pm, downed a full glass of orange juice and walked around my room for the nth time, the phone rang. "So, are you gonna tell me?" Mugg sounded suppress-ingly excited. "No, don't worry about it, it's not important" I resorted to passive offensive technique. "Come on!" he insisted on for five more minutes, but gave up with a giant arrgh as I refused to bulge. "Fine. Bye then."
By midnight, after one more dose of Wonderwall, I resolved to pick up the phone, "Let's meet." "Now??" Mugg was a little shocked - I learned later that a giant basketball game was on TV then. "Hello?" "Yeah yeah, now" - I must have knocked my head till silly during the 3o-second conversation.
We walked around Union Square in silence for half an hour, then talked till 4am in Starbucks.
It all started one cold, cold night :-)
