Last night I was out partying. Me of all people. The agoraphobic hermit. As you can probably tell I don’t get out much. Don’t get me wrong I love to socialize and party but I don’t like the actual going part.
Anyway my husband and I went downtown to this little dive bar called the Star Dust Lounge. There’s nothing louge-ish about the place so the name is a mystery to me. There’s more of a Mel’s Diner meets Roadhouse feeling.
I wasn’t all that enthused about being out in spite of my husband trying to lighten things up. I can be that way, which is the total shits because I end up irritated with everyone and everyone ends up irritated with me. Last night didn’t end up that way though.
Harry Navel in hand I went outside to have a cigarette. I’m in California where smoking in bars is illegal. They had a lousy covered patio in the back of the building, right off of a back alley. It’s not really scary; it’s just a dump in a dumpy neighborhood.
As I started walking towards the hubby’s truck I noticed a group of bikers had pulled in to the parking lot when one of them yelled at me, “What’s your shirt say? I can’t see it from here. Come here…hey come over here.”
I stopped walking and yelled back what my shirt said. (see post below) As I started talking I realized this guy looked familiar to me. I walked closer trying to see him in the glare of the streetlight.
He grinned at me and finally I said, “Do I know you? You look…Roy? OMG! I can’t believe it’s you!” (we’ll call him Roy for namesake. I’m obviously not going to say who he is)
Next thing I know he’s laughing, I’m laughing and suddenly we’re remembering old times. My husband and I and Roy and his wife were great friends. We were more than just friends. We l-i-k-e-d each other uhhh lot.
His wife and my husband always used to say Roy and I were alike, that I was his female half and he was my male half. And supposedly that was a dangerous and combustionalbe combination.
We had some truly great times and lived to tell about it. Hell we had some unbelievable party sessions.
This was probably one of the strangest coincidences that’s happened to me in a long time. I never expected to run into Roy probably every again. I could maybe see if I was at a porn shop in Modesto or something but never in my home town at a shit bar in the back parking lot surrounded by a bunch of bikers
At some point my husband came outside looking for me and a smoke. He weaved his drunken stagger towards me. He didn’t realize who I was talking to until he got right up to us and he was just as surprised as I was.
The rest of the evening was spent outside in the parking lot of a shit bar talking and reminiscing with an old friend while my husband looked desperately for anyone he could pick a fight with. Bikers in particular.
I ended up driving us home.
So it’s always nice to run into old friends. Some things have changed in all four of our lives but some things remain the same. Those familiarities is what makes old friends good friends.
Raunchy Taters 