I try to walk quickly but take care not to rush, otherwise my time will be off.
I look at the running stopwatch, 18.23. I'll go ahead and call that an even twenty. I stop my watch and look up at the shiny mirrored glass building in front of me.
A twenty minute walking commute from my horrible apartment to my new job. It could be worse, I could have to make several subway lines to get here.
I notice a small cafe on the opposite corner of the block. I decide that as part of my due diligence, I should probably try it. It would be wonderful to have good options for coffee so close to the office.
I stare up at the building as I walk past it. Large, bronze letters proudly read "Hutchins, Hutchins & Bond Attorneys at Law."
I shake the nervous energy from my hands. I am the first female junior associate to be hired here in nearly ten years. I'm also the first non-Yalie to ever be hired here.
I need to represent women, the west coast and Stanford all at onces. It's a lot of pressure.
I got offers for junior associate positions from several law firms on the west coast, including the one I interned for every summer. There is something about this place though. Their reputation for hard ball, brilliant lawyering is well known.
I also love the idea of breaking up the boys club. These east coast boys have no idea what's about to hit them.
The coffeehouse is busy, which is a good sign. I walk in and look over the expansive pastry case and refrigerated grab and go section. I'm already feeling excited to have this place so close. I can see myself here, often.
"Medium iced mocha with almond milk, please," I order when my turn comes.
Waiting for my drink I turn to look around the room. There is a decent mixture of people in athleisure wear and business attire.
For a Saturday I'm surprised by the number of people that are clearly working in corporate environments. I shouldn't be surprised, this is the city that never sleeps, of course people are working for the weekend. I haven't exactly picked a career that is known for it's easygoing business hours. I will, inevitably, be one of these tired looking, working people here on a Saturday in no time at all.
After grabbing my drink I head for the door. I can't help but smile with the first sip, I'll definitely be here often. A good cup of coffee is worth its weight in gold when you're up late reading kegal precedents and police reports.
Just a few steps out the door, I step directly into the wrong place at exactly the wrong time. A lady with a dog stops to tie her shoe, just as a cyclist rides by, her dog lunges at the cycling man causing him to swerve into the pedestrian walking lane. In order to dodge the bike coming at me I jump diagonally forward, directly into someone's body, then fall to the ground.
I am face to face with coffee stained sperrys. As I look up over the tight khaki shorts and pastel pink polo, I'm met with the angry face of a frat boy.
"Fuck! Watch it!" He hisses angrily, shaking his wet shoes.
"I'm so sorry!" I pull myself from the floor and rub my scraped hands together.
Shit, my palms and knees sting.
"It's fine" his voice is curt.
Before I can say another word he steps around me and into the coffee shop.
What a dick.
"Hey, sorry about that!" The cyclist says, "you alright?"
I give him a small smile, "yeah, I'm fine."
As he peddles off I pick up my empty cup from the ground. Welcome to New York, I guess.