Thanksgiving day, didn't make it home. I was supposed to. Was kinda bummed so I went out to grab some good coffee. "I'll treat myself!" I thought. Got there and - closed. Boo. Naturally I whined and tried to open the door anyway. When it didn't open and the place didn't magically come to life, I mumbled something like "Guh fudarmiguhgh ghdh?!"
Phone buzzes, it's a text from my sister with 2 pictures, one of the entire family but me, the other of my dog Barney doing a sad face. Caption, "We miss u!" I paused. I smelled passive-aggressive. I thought, "Ok, I'll be passive-aggressiver" and not reply.
I didn't reply.
Off I go down the woe-is-me highway to find a woe-is-me Starbucks. "Surely it will be open!" I think out loud in a chipper voice, Starbucks not striking me as a company that celebrates things or takes days off.
Yikes! I notice a strange man shuffling towards me. He appears to be on somethings, has at least 3 coats, tattered slacks, 1 Croc and 1 K-Swiss (I'm not "kidding" aka "lying"). I can't say if he's homeless, maybe he has a home this is just how he rolls I don't know maybe it was your dad I don't know.
My attention quickly focuses back to feeling sorry for myself when I hear the guy say "Happy Sthanksgiving!". I chuckle out of reflex, just the way he said it. He looks me in the eye and laughs right back, louder and crazier. This gives me anxiety, and I start doing the same.
A million thoughts go through my head. "I must remain steadfast. I must ditch this ridiculous man. I must find an espresso macchiato to help ease my guilt of not being home for T-giving."
I start getting flashbacks of T-giving's past...there I am! 8 years old, sitting at the table scowling at my plate. Cut back to the weirdo guy, glossy eyes going in all directions laughing his ass off. Flashback again, there I am at 16, in my room listening to Counting Crows refusing to join everyone. Back to the crazy dude, now he's slapping his knee, which gives me more anxiety, now we're both slapping our knees. Flashback again. There I am just a few short years ago, ordering a pizza in the bathroom trying to ignore "Where's Clay?" commotion outside.
Everything's bizarre, it's like the boat scene in Willy Wonka, I'm trying to hold it together.
But I can't. I snap back to reality screeching "Sorry I'm so sorry!!" and slap the crazy old loon on the butt twice real fast saying "pop-pop!" I run for my life. I'm not sure if he was even chasing me or not, I just ran. Either way I was giggling and high-stepping, as I figured may as well work out my quads during this.
I stop to catch my breath and it hits me like [just under] a ton of bricks that this whole thing was a big life lesson in disguise: Demitasse coffee shop on 3rd & Wilshire in Santa Monica isn't open on Thanksgiving day.
Even though it says they are online.
@claysummers
