I was just standing in line at Popeye's Chicken when I noticed a girl waiting off to the side for her order. There was nothing special about this girl. She was a typical Mexican punk chick. It's just when I noticed her my eyes lingered on her for a little longer than usual. She didn't notice. I don't think she noticed. Maybe she noticed. A flood of misery washed over me in that moment. Intensely oppressive emotions of loneliness, ineptitude, and inexperience forced themselves upon me. I started shaking as my eyes welled up and two tears escaped down my face. The moment I again understood where I was I claimed my composure quickly. I asked myself how long that little episode had lasted. I had no since of time at that moment. It was clear it wasn't long because no one had seemed to budge from the position they were in since I last saw them. Probably milliseconds. I ordered my food. Popcorn shrimp, biscuit, and fries. Picked it up and drove home. And that is the story of how I almost had a mental breakdown in a fried chicken restaurant.
I skated today though. It was fun, but rocking 70 extra pounds makes for tiresome work.