I scan the parking lot and don’t see the car I think That Guy drives. My friend, E., and I walk into Joe’s, and we see our friend K. He’s finishing up a short story. I look around. I look around again. No. That Guy is not here. At the counter, the barista asks me how I am. “Great!” I say.
“Great?” he asks.
“Certain people aren’t here!” I look around again. “No. Not here.”
He nods and the other barista walks over. “We’ve been looking up for him,” she says. They tell me how the owner, D. told them what to do. They’d all been talking about That Guy. “We’re looking out for you,” they say.
I had a good night. Amazing how much fun you have when no one is watching your every move. Or at least when you don’t believe someone is watching your every move.
Like writing. The things you can write when no editor, teacher, harpy, or weird guy is beside you! Freedom! A wonderful thing indeed.
Of course, Melodramatic Mind knows That Guy is still out there and there is still next Tuesday, and the Tuesday after that… but tonight is good.