As I approach High Street (M-20), the traffic is suprisingly light for how many people came out of their caves to enjoy the weather. I cross with relative ease. I zigzag my way through the maze of suburbia, and enter the college housing. Just ahead there is a convenience store I never bothered to go into, despite the fact I've lived just a stone's throw away for 2 years. I throw my sandals on, and approach. A friendly welcome found my way to the cooler. I grab 2 liters of Diet Coke. $4.13 at the counter. The man working is a little older than me, and we make small talk. "Throw it on the card." We wish each other well. 7 blocks to go.
They seemed to pass in a blur. The sun has now set, and it's dark. I walk oblivious to the partying going on around me. Oblivious to the frat boy already passed out in a bush to the right. Oblivious the the girls walking by with the mini-skirts that would impress their fathers. Oblivious to the discarded cans and the 'all-too-epic' wreckage. The only thing on my mind is the music pumping through my ears, and the longing to get back to the dorm for a nice dinner (for once). 1 more block.
I cross the street to find my RHD and her husband Gabe on the front steps. They ask me what a moose sounds like. Their son looks up at me. I give it my best. They laugh, I continue. I make my way to the back lobby, and through the doors to where the grill is. Nobody is there, but I open the top of the grill anyway. The coals are still hot, and I can see the BBQ despite the darkness. I make my way upstairs, and everyone is waiting for me.
Just another day.
I would love to hear your moose-call.
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