Blast from the past

I moved to Atlanta in the summer of 2002. I was 24 years old. I had graduated college two years prior and hadn't really gotten over that whole drink crappy beer, get stoned and hang out with friends until the wee hours of the morn mentality. So when I arrived in Atlanta with no job and very few friends, my first priority was to find a job where I could meet people. I had saved up a lot of money so that wasn't a major concern. After driving around the city for several days, I ended up filling out an application at Joe's Crab Shack. Joe's was in Buckhead, an area of the city that, at the time, was known for cheesy bars, underaged college girls in skimpy outfits and drink specials. It wasn't exactly my thing, but because of the proximity to Joe's, I ended up going out there every night. I had this thing with this guy. I don't know what you'd call it; a restaurant romance? We weren't dating but we were hanging out. Looking back, it was probably just a series of meaningless hookups, but at the time I pretended it was more. I don't know why though. This guy was weird. He was nice enough but he smelled. Seriously. Why I would waste my time with a dude who smelled, I have no idea. My younger self apparently suffered from a lack of self esteem. Anyway, fast forward four and a half years. I was at Front Page News last night with Jamie. We ordered food and who should bring it out but Mr. Smelly himself. He looked the same. I didn't know if he recognized me or not and for a minute I thought about whether I should just pretend to not know him. As he called out our orders, I said, "Hey." He looked at me quizically, "Uh, hey?" I said, "I know you." He kept looking at me. I told him how we knew each other "You look different." he said, "How have you been?" I never told him my name. I have no idea if he knew who I was or not. It's a friendship that I'd rather not rekindle. I am not the same person that I was in June 2002. The last thing I want to do now is work in a restaurant because I have very little interest in drinking crappy beer, getting stoned or hanging out with friends until the wee hours of the morn.

Next post will be 15 miles later.