At Last the Secret is Out

After dinner at Dressel’s last night, Abbie and I stopped by The Famous Bar for a couple drinks. We sat alone in the chilly back room until our conversation was interrupted by a guy asking if one of us wanted to play a game of pool. I had already played a game against Abbie and didn’t really want to be humiliated again (I suck at all bar games except darts and poker) and the guy seemed drunk and annoying, but he seemed to be alone and I thought, “what the hell, I’ll play a quick game.” Almost immediately after we stepped away from the table where Abbie was sitting he asked me if I knew of any bars in the area that would have a higher girl-to-guy ratio. Now I was really annoyed. I wanted to ask angrily, “You interrupted my date to ask me where you can pick up chicks?” Instead I tried to name a few bars that more women might patronize on a Tuesday night and worked to end the game as quickly as possible. While he was taking one of his turns, I stepped back over to Abbie’s table and apologized for it taking so long. Then she told me something he had said to her a few minutes prior. At Last the Secret is Out. The man’s wife had died in a car accident. She was his best friend and he was living his life counting the regrets and mistakes he made–wishing he could go back and undo them. I rejoined the game and managed a feeble sympathetic comment about his loss. We lost interest in the game and talked for a bit about love and loss. He kept telling me to never settle for mediocrity: to be passionate, spontaneous, and aware that on any given day, I could lose someone I love. I was humbled.

Tags: Personal