Dude Says

I was at a meeting yesterday wearing my typical garb: old suit jacket from Goodwill, pork pie hat clamped down on fly-away hair, Simpson's T-Shirt, dress slacks, clogs.  Dude shows up late, reaches over the guy sitting next to me to shake my hand enthusiastically when I return from my second cup of coffee, two more than I actually need.

Dud approaches me after the meeting: "It's great to see you!" he exclaims.

"It's great to see you, too," I say, somewhat warily.  I hate it when I've spoken with someone but can't remember a thing about the conversation.  It's not rare when this happens - I've definitely got some circuit damage up there, compounded by the fact that I don't generally listen to other people when they talk.

Willie told me the first thing he does when he reads my posts is to skim the text to see if he's mentioned.  I admire that level of shallowness in my friends.

Anyway, dude says: "Will I see you back at the house?"

Ah.  Dude thinks he knows me from a rehab or detox or some other sober living arrangement. I can't imagine he thinks I'm homeless but SuperK isn't so sure. 

Most people would be offended.  I fell in love.