Blind Date

After giving himself one last look over he was somewhat pleased to confirm that the bathroom was down one shambling neanderthal and up one productive member of society.
Despite being the only one in his apartment he modestly wrapped the towel around his waist, collecting his discarded boxers before he made his way back to his bedroom. He turned the radio on on his phone after checking the time and finding out, a pleasant surprise, that it was Friday and, with the damp towel still clinging to his body began to neatly layout his suit for the day; White boxers, black pants, black shoes, white shirt, black belt, red striped tie.
As he carefully laid out his clothes he listened contentedly to the pop song spilling from his phone, humming softly as he did so, he recognised the song and appreciated the catchy tune though he didn't sing along.
He finally set aside the towel as he started to dress, folding it over a radiator before pulling on his briefs and listening to the daily news bulletin. The news these days was predictable, always the same, always scandals, disasters, wars. It came to something, he thought, when the news was as routine as his life.
With his collar popped he settled the red tie around his neck and hesitated, looking down at himself and holding both ends of the tie around his neck out from him, inspecting it. After a moment, he put it back, retrieving instead a solid red tie.
After he was finished he gave himself one last look over in the mirror, looking for any creases or blemishes, any mistakes or missed buttons. Satisfied, he silenced his phone and slid it along with his wallet and keys in their assigned pockets and made his way out of his apartment into the cold brisk air of the world, beginning the daily commute.
The commute was longer than he would like, but not particularly arduous, the subways running at regular intervals and, thankfully, never so tightly packed that he was squished in next to other people. He also had the good fortune of passing by a coffee kiosk which made the mornings bearable. A man should never dispute the value of a kiosk which sells truly good coffee, in which, if he could, he partook more than once a day.