It was a Friday. And I was feelin’ fine. Strangely fine. Not blissed-out mind you… just fine enough that I could honestly say, “it’s all good” and bring the hearty truth of the statement forth.
My friends have a band. This band has a show. This night. This particular Friday.
“You should come.”
I reckon I will.
Let off of work early, however, I am left to my own devices.
And it’s all time… time… time. I mean, 11:00pm guys? Really?! Any earlier…
But I handle it like a pro. …the time.
Finish reading a script (which was pretty kick ass). Clean a bit. All lovely, slow ‘things to do’. And I do them. And I’m feelin’ fine. Like a normal person that carries out actions… does stuff… within time.
It’s simply simple. And simply incredible.
So… I go to the show. Show’s great. See friends… exquisite. And I continue to exist in the mood of laconic, slow, low-key ‘fine-ness’. Mighty grand.
None of this has anything to do with “adorably cute”, of course. But now is the time to segue like all of the motion that stays in motion until I step abruptly on the brake and stop short… after I remember that I am actually driving.
So, good friend has girlfriend. Much younger than he. Slightly younger than me. I’ve known her in a passing version of theory for a while. I meet her aforementioned Friday. Introduce myself. Hand out, firm handshake and a smile. Good Friend apparently unable to bring me around any girlfriend he may have at any slice of time’s present. And she’s quite pleasant.
Later, I find out, she found me adorably cute.
And, I must say, in anyone’s defense, I am adorably cute… sometimes. And I don’t take offense or anything. It’s just as I’ve gotten older, adorably cute increasingly sounds a bit condescending.
Thank you. Drive Thru.