Wait For It… a blog by Andy Ross

Good Morning, Summer

Good morning, sunshine. Good morning, birds. Good morning, flowers and trees and puffy white clouds.

Good morning, heat. Good morning, garbage smells. Good morning, drip of sweat sliming its way down between my shoulder blades.

Good morning, crowded elevators and angry moms and old ladies too tired to hold in their farts.

Good morning, fashion assistants wearing sunglasses on the subway even through there’s no sunlight down here and you look like assholes squinting down at your asshole Blackberries.

Good morning, melted gum and dog feces. Good morning, babies with heat rash. Good morning, even more garbage smells.

Good morning, air conditioner exhausts and air conditioner drips and the ever-present grind of air conditioners. Good morning, air-conditioned luxury stores with your doors wide open, because fuck the world, right?

Good morning, Russian men in Speedos and Brazilian men in thongs. Good morning, exposed beer bellies of the world. Good morning, back hair.

Good morning, road construction. Good morning, jackhammers. Good morning, people talking about the Hamptons.

Good morning, bees. Good morning, ants. Good morning stink bugs and spiders and cockroaches and silverfish and those gross wispy centipedes that look like eyebrows.

Good morning, mosquitoes.

Good morning, pit stains. Good morning, weight we meant to lose. Good morning, hot pillows.

Good morning, children with ice cream all over your faces and hands and t-shirts and everything you touch. Good morning, general stickiness.

Good morning, eight-dollar iced lattes. Good morning, hot leather convertible seats. Good morning, lacrosse players in backwards visors and shower shoes.

Good morning, heat stroke. Good morning, dehydration. Good morning, brownouts and blackouts and thunderstorms and tornadoes.

But, finally, a big good morning to tan-lined cleavage and flippy sun dresses. Thank you for making everything else okay.