Adjusting my tie in the mirror and going through my repertoire of serious faces, I fell into daydreaming. It's my all-to-frequent pastime. Yes, Ben, you are almost good-looking. A few inches short of the six-foot masculine ideal, but no runt. Vigorous, thick, Italian-black hair, regular features and a nice smile. It shows a couple of slightly crooked teeth, but it's a good smile nonetheless. It had won the heart of Rebecca, the girl you had picked to last a lifetime. So stop daydreaming, Ben. Get out there and win one for her.
My first decision was how to get to Westley's condominium to meet Dr. Broadmoore. A cab would be expensive, maybe unreliable and always against my general principles. No, today's trip would use a most excellent combination of Metrorail and bicycle.