The sunlight enveloped the city in a haze, inviting me to squint my way around the neighborhood. I need real sunglasses, not these Kensington knockoffs that pretend to protect the eyes they’re in front of. The lady told me they were polarized. That’s how she became an afterthought rival.

Another indie coffee shop just opened up. They’re all always full so it must make sense. I’m a willing customer, a marketer’s statistic. Marketers, they’re the real antagonists.

The dog with the woman in front of me is sniffing everyone. A sign indicates the creature isn’t supposed to be allowed in here, but nobody else seems to mind and it’s a little early for a confrontation. Then again, finding an adversary this early in the a.m. ensures a more interesting day than the one I had planned. I let it go.
“Americano, please,” I order, resisting their attempt to get me to call it a canadiano. “To go.”
A fake name in the morning wakes me up as much as the caffeine, but still less than a new nemesis would.

Screw this. I don’t even wait for my drink. I’m out of here, to find my Enemy for the Day.

April 8 – Patricia Arquette gets a hankering for another transient rival
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