quick departure

Up at noon.  “That’s fine, my bus doesn’t leave until 2:30,” he tells me.

Alexander’s bus is crosstown at Port Authority.  The much nicer Cornell bus which leaves from a few blocks away is full.  He’d have had to have reserved that in advance.

At 1:15 Alexander says, “I don’t think I have time to make the 2:30.  I’ll take the 4:30 instead.”  He goes online to book the 4:30.  “Oh no,” I hear from the other room.  “It doesn’t stop at the stop I want.”

Alexander packs quickly, leaves his room a mess, and says, "Don't touch anything; I should have cobwebs in my room when I get back."  

He then leaves, much later than a prudent person would have.

“Good-bye, I love you.  Mwah,” he calls from down the hall.  He makes the bus, no problem.   

Good that Alexander's grandmother/my mother isn't here.  She’d have left at noon.