AWOL

It was payday and everything. Some perceptive people at the office decided it was high time for an after-work get-together, and the timing couldn't have been better. Or so I thought. I left the office about 5:00, so okay, I'm already running a little late, but what else is new? I thought I had directions to the faux-Irish bar-restaurant in the strip mall across from the big mall, but I had never actually been there, so I was in search mode, going by verbal cues rather than experiential memory. Turn left on Sancus, look for a green sign (it's gotta be green), but I don't see it; did I pass it? Driving south a few blocks, it becomes residential, circle back, still nothing, but the NPR in-depth report on Bode Miller's slip of the tongue about competing in a world cup ski event while drunk was riveting, as well as mocking my own inability to navigate the streets of Central Swingstate in search of a drink, let alone Alpine slopes the morning after. Maybe I was distracted, inattentive, tired, spaced - after all it was Friday afternoon, quickly becoming Friday night - and that's why we were doing this in the first place, the need for an attitude adjustment, a change of perspective, a different point of view! On my second pass south on Sancus, after a U-turn in the Kroger parking lot, I noticed that the new Lazelle Woods recreation center was open, so I stopped in to take a quick look. The quick look became a conversation with a staff member at the desk, which became a personal tour of the building, which became another conversation about their programs and open gym hours. I learned a lot and made a mental note to check out their old guys basketball hour on Mondays. But I still hadn't found the group from the office, so I circled back up Sancus, and still no luck, no green neon, no Irish-looking sign. Do I have a giant blind spot? Did I have an amnesiac episode? Perhaps a break in the space-time continuum where either the faux Irish pub or my pickup truck became detached from the fabric of everyday reality for a few minutes, and for all intents and purposes I couldn't get there from here. Stumped, frustrated, confused, and bamboozled (but not boozed or even buzzed), I went home via the Vietnamese package store on Schocking Road, and in my first stroke of good luck, had some tonic and one slice of lime left in the fridge.