I'm walking home from a meeting. I'm detouring to pick up sushi takeout (naturally) and talking to J on the phone (naturally). I get my sushi and now I'm almost home, but I know that I'll lose reception the minute I walk in the door. So I borrow someone's stoop and I sit, with my trench coat in my lap. I eat my tuna and California rolls and I talk with J about IPOs and consumer goods and equity and employer-sponsored MBAs.
This makes sense, I think. Because why would I go inside? It's a beautiful Boston night. It's a great night to talk business with one of my favorite people in the world and eat some sushi.