Last night abruptly ended my temperance. I went out to meet an old friend I haven't seen in maybe fifteen years, though that seems impossible. I met him and a couple other friends at a bar on a Tuesday night. The place was empty except for what Ili described as "lost people." We had the bar to ourselves.
The trouble was that Ili and I started early. We finished late. We didn't meet up until nine, a time for pjs and the couch on a work night. But I couldn't not go see an old friend.
I am paying for it this morning. And the factory whistle is a-blowing.
It is good to see old friends, but why do they do it? Why do they get so old? Do they do it just to piss you off?
I know the drill. People hold an image of you they don't want to let go. I have people who feel betrayed because I am not able to do what I once did. I like hearing the tales of who I was. They are the ones I want to hear. But people are pissed when you can't handle a situation the way you once did.
Oh. . . I used to swim up waterfalls and wrestle grizzly bears and make the most beautiful women on the planet swoon. I was something, so they say.
At least I do.
No comments:
Post a Comment