Before My Eyes

I can understand why posts I've written would lead readers (Ha!) to believe that all I do is sit around watching defunct television shows. But two nights ago I went into the city to spend the night carousing and drinking, which is the first other activity of mine I will hint at on this blog.

I was a little lightheaded driving into town down I-95, I was getting lost in Dinosaur Jr.'s new album 'Farm,' particularly the song Plans. It was excellent but the subject matter, of break-ups and broken hearts, was hitting a little close to home. I arrived in town unsure of myself, not in the least because my chosen attire was an orange vintage Philadelphia Flyers jacket. I met up with my friend and we proceeded to walk about town, the entire time with me half in the conversations taking place. 

It was about 15th and Walnut when I thought I saw a high school friend of mine walking ahead. I was so out of it that I wandered straight into the street, apparently. I'm going to have to take the witness's word for it, because I wasn't paying attention at all. The car that nearly hit me was a silver GMC Envoy, or possibly a Pathfinder Armada, with tinted windows. The window rolls down, and I'm staring at the hardest looking dude I've ever seen, and he gives me the most serious "Are you shitting me? I know you're shitting me" face, while I stumble over explanations as to what made me walk out into the middle of the street against traffic, which I myself am unsure of. 

After my companion explained to me what exactly happened, I was overcome with a fit of the shakes and the sweats, even though I never knew I was in any real danger. I spent the rest of the night thinking, "What if I'm dead and I just don't know it?" I'm still thinking that.