Sunday Breakfast

Yesterday I biked into downtown St. Paul to have breakfast with Ming at the Four Inns.  I had to wait around in front of the federal building for a while because it only took an hour to get there, not the hour and a half I'd allotted myself, so I amused myself by taking photos and reading the news.  This one turned out really well.

When Ming got there he was on the other side of the building and, by the time I caught up with him, he was talking to the cops on the phone about the guy who'd been on the side of the trail with a machete.  Unfortunately, the cop couldn't investigate because he didn't know how to look up bicycling trails on Google.  So there's your piece of advice for the day.  If you're going to commit a crime, commit it on a bike trail and you'll buy yourself hours while the cops try to align it with geography they understand.



This was in the window across the street.  Vote Betty!  The nurses used to have lots of this exact sign when I worked for them back in the 80s and Betty was running for City Council.  I believe she actually came to the office once to talk to the nurses as the association (our district wasn't officially a union) did a lot of political action committee work representing registered nurses and health care in general.


The Four Inns had good food.  The pancakes were particularly tasty.  This guy loomed over us throughout breakfast.


And she stared at us from the corner.  She reminds me of art I'd see at work.


After breakfast, we noticed a bag under a bench right up against the building.  So we tried to find a security guard who could help us, but when we got on the elevator and pushed the button to the 10th floor, it just turned itself off again.  There was no one immediately available on a Sunday morning.  After taking a closer look I could just see inside to see it was empty, so I popped the top open so it was obvious nothing was inside for anyone else who might be worried about a bomb scare.  Given the current nonsense about physically implanting bombs in people, I wonder how they'd have reacted to me calling in the authorities to look at a lunch box with a big chunks of metal in my hip and a scar.  Guess it depends on whether they brought a metal sniffing dog as it doesn't show below the edge of my bike shorts.

Lilydale has had a lot of work done since I last pedaled into St. Paul.  They're routing the trail along the wetlands a little further south, and this is going up.  Very nice looking as long as you don't peek around the corner and see what seems to be a homeless tent city hidden in the woods.

I raced a couple of road bikers here just to make them work.  They never like getting passed by my hybrid/sport bike.  It's a good reason not to accept Ming's mirror - I'd only use it to mess with people.


The panoramic view.  You can see it better at the [Original].