We drive east in the rain on Sunrise Highway. At least I am pretty sure we are headed east, and I'm almost certain that Highway '27' is Sunrise Highway. Since moving back to New York, I have been occasionally helping my brother out on the weekends. He refinishes and moves pianos, and sometimes on Saturday I help him do some moving. Its pouring rain and we are headed to Farmingville, or dale, or ton...I can't remember which. Its been over ten years since I lived in New York, and even when I did live here, I was never very good about getting around Long Island. I am pretty sure we are going east towards Farmingdale. My Brother has a vente coffee with cream propped up on the dash. I ask him, as I do every Saturday, if he ever spills it. He says no, again.

This particular Saturday the door to the moving truck is broken, and it swings open when we make left turns, so my brother has the window of the cab open, and occasionally grabs the door and pulls it closed when needed. This seems a tad dangerous to me, and is compounded by his stubbornness regarding not using a seatbelt.

As we merge off of Sunrise Highway (or whatever Highway we are on), his door begins to swing open. He reaches for the door. As he does this his vente coffee starts to fall. His normlly free coffee saving hand is occupied grabbing for the door. We watch in horror as a full extra large Starbuck's vente coffee spills into the dash. It falls directly into the heating vent. The coffee, now free from the boundaries of the cardboard cup, makes a dashing run down the vent. It is as if someone has flushed a toilet, and the coffee spirals instantly down. We sit silently for a second. My brother starts to go through the papers on the dash, and he is surprised by the lack of coffee. I inform him that it has all flushed itself down the heater vent. We pause for a second, and then we burst into the laughter. He says, "That ain't gonna smell so good in a day or two." I agree, and we head off to farming-ville-burg or whatever.