Ben at the Door

I opened the door and Ben was standing there. Hadn’t seen him in months. Apparently there was a bar crawl—organized through several degrees of separation—and I was finding out about it right now, as it was beginning.

They trickled in slowly and we made our way to the first stop, a place called Balu. Ana—my best friend, or at least the one I see most often—had already had a head start and wasn’t being quiet about it. I tried, gently, to put some brakes on without killing the mood. Old faces everywhere, some newer ones too. It had that feeling of the Fritz days, when everyone ended up in the same room by accident and it worked.

After midnight, half of us moved on to the Chap. I ran into the little brother of my ex Karina there, with his friends in tow. We drank. There was flirting. Somebody started singing at some point. The usual coordinates of a night that doesn’t mean anything and means everything while it’s happening. Tonight there’s more—André’s place, a film night folded into a drinking session, and I’m finally going to watch Eurotrip. Olé.