Gold Diggers and Networking
Church Street: St. John the Baptist Roman Catholic Chuch

Fifteen Perfect Minutes

It was a busy, busy morning preparing a new course for its internal debut tomorrow. I thought I was done at least three times, only to get "one more change" and "can we put this in" and "fix this screenshot" and nit nit nit nit.


I ate my egg sal san and yogurt lunch at my desk. I had a chat with my boss. I did some more editing and tweaking and email answering. The lead tech guy asked if I could...

Yes, I could.

Finally, along about three o'clock, the requests petered out. I looked out the window at the cloudless sky and decided that I was committing a crime by staying inside on such a beautiful day, so I grabbed my purse and went outside to grab a cupcake and coffee at Starbucks.

As I walked down the steps toward Starbucks, I heard music -- violin and bass playing Mozart, and playing it beautifully.

I sighed; how nice! Then I saw the buskers, two guys set up right in front of my building, right in front of the Metro stop and the Starbucks, serenading the passersby with lovely, lovely music.


I stopped for a second, then got my cupcake and coffee, and then found a seat on the wall in the sun, to listen to the music.

They finished the Mozart and started the most perfect piece that they could have played on a warm, gorgeous day, the most perfect piece for eating a vanilla cupcake and drinking a cup of coffee, Vivaldi's Spring from The Four Seasons.

Am I silly that it made me so happy to be sitting in the sun listening to Vivaldi?

After they finished, I emptied my wallet (three measly bucks) into their bucket and went back inside. They were still there when I left to go home, and I headed for the train to the strains of Pachelbel's Canon.