I pulled into an empty parking spot at the gas station to wait while my brother's tank was being filled by the attendant. He took the opportunity to go inside and get more smokes.
I thought about going over and talking to him while he was waiting but irrational fears kept me in my car. The car trips of my day were so eventful that I barely had time to reflect on the whole "my life is half-over" headline. I don't know what I would have thought about that anyway if I had had the time. Probably something to the affect of, "Yep, I'm getting older alright." I didn't really feel up for an epiphany, but I had a lingering feeling that I might be short-changing myself for the lack of trying. My life has a handful of them and the truth is that you can't bring them on yourself or if you strain yourself, you're gonna hurt yourself. I took this classic advice that it was alright not to be at a bar alone raising a whiskey to my mortality.
Brent took off and I had to keep my foot down to keep up. The countryside we drove through didn't do anything to vaporize my irrational fear of being killed on my birthday. I started to keep track of the turns, thinking that he might be leading me on a wild goose chase and just trying to run my tank down until I ran out of gas. I don't know why he would have done something like this unless my suspicions were true. It seemed like we were going in a giant circle. I imagined that eventually we'd end up back at his house where Susan and Janell would have had enough time to set up and get the friends together to surprise the piss out of me. The thought of being surprised was too much to handle. I imagined myself surrounded by everyone I love and just breaking down with exhaustion, joy and stupidity. Joy because they were all there and willing to travel great distances by motor car just to celebrate my life. Stupidity because I almost had myself convinced that they were prepared to hang up their love for me and hang me. I felt like an ass for being so tardy and imagining that they could so easily dispatch me.
Brent sped up to pass a car and I had no choice but to follow. He really was in a hurry to get somewhere. Because I felt he was traveling in a circle I wondered if he was leading me to this little crab shack he introduced us to at the end of last summer. While we were there he mentioned how the owner, who he was sorta buddies with, would rent the place out for private parties and cook for everyone. It was an eclectic joint and I remember being impressed by the fact that U2's "Numb" was on the stereo along with Louis Armstrong, Bob Marley, and others. The place reminded me of "The Blue Danube," a clubhouse that some of my high-school buddies had set up in Evan Esh's barn. The place was great and it was the hot spot for all the teenaged bohemians. Janell and I had already begun talking about my hopes for my 30th back in the summer and I remember that we had had a conversation about renting out this place. I had convinced myself that this is where we were headed and that the barn was warmed with the chatter of my friends gathering around the speakers, listening to my favorite songs.
I started seeing signs for the shore points and Atlantic City. This meant that the bohemian rhapsody crab shack barn party was off. We were at a stop light and I had just begun to mourn the loss of my imagined party. The light turned green and Brent pulled a u-turn drove back about a quarter mile and pulled into a shopping center parking lot. I followed him to a Famous Dave's where he stopped his truck.
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