Dude... where'd YOU come from? // 09.08.02
So I'm at work tonight and I'm hungry (get RIGHT outta town). Amanda and I were debating where I should get dinner from. I had one of those Uncle Ben's rice bowl-y things in the break room freezer, but in my malnourished state I forgot all about it. So she decided that I should go to Culver's for some chicken fingers and while I'm at it, get her a concrete chocolate malt. I get to the drive up, where I decide that my ass is big enough as it is, thank you, and I need to get something wherein the main ingredient is lettuce. I ended up with a taco salad which isn't much better, but there's a significantly higher vegetable content so I deemed it acceptable. I digress... the girl came over the speaker, welcomed me to the drive-thru, and informed me that she'd be with me in just a moment. So I look at the speaker and nod saying "Ok" like she can totally see me and appreciates my willingness to stare at the menu for another minute. Then I glanced into my side mirror and saw the car behind me and its driver. And it was Chuck. Chuck who I had been best friends with in high school and who I haven't seen since (that's 7 years folks). I just kept staring at his reflection and talking myself in and out of the fact that it was him. I ordered, drove up and then drove farther up to wait while Culver's fine salad artists put a nice big scoop o' beef on my requisite lettuce. Then Chuck drove up next to me to wait for whatever he ordered. I feel like a tool, because I REALLY wanted to hop out of the car and go over to him, but I didn't. I almost got out of the car while I was stopped at the speaker. I just didn't know what the fuck to do. So I just left it. There's been times when Chuck had the opportunity to hang out with me and Josh and Kevin and he hasn't gone. So I'm pretty sure that all that stuff is behind him and he'd like to keep it that way. Maybe subconsciously I knew better than to talk to him. But he looked exactly the same. I know for a fact that I look way different than I did in high school. But Chuck still looked exactly like a Chuck would. Maybe that's why I wanted to run up to him. So the whole point of this is that there is no point. Just a shining example of the randomness that life is based on. I know that I made the right choice by just leaving. If it was wrong I'd have that empty, echo-y feeling in my chest that tells you that there was something new that was supposed to go there, but you screwed it up and missed your chance.
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