I just woke up. It’s 3:00 a.m. and time for a story. The words of Billy Currington’s “People are crazy” are running through my head.

It’s a beautiful Saturday afternoon in the Ozarks. I’m sitting at the pub enjoying an onion loaf and a beer. It’s perfect weather for a day to just sit and enjoy the view. I love to people watch. I love to sit still and and take in the scenery of each individual, guessing bits and pieces of their history. My assumptions are probably off, but it’s still fun.

As I sip my beer in the summer sun, I see an old friend walk by. I haven’t seen him in forever. I jump up from the table and wave him down. A big smile comes across his face as he comes to the table with open arms. We hug, he kisses my cheek, and we sit down for a long, overdue visit. Oh what a visit it was!

He asked so many questions. He brought up so many wonderful memories; some of which I had completely forgotten. We also discussed things I was hoping to never be reminded of, but I guess the good comes with the bad.

“Do you remember the time You and your mom had just enough money to get a pizza and go to the movie?” he asked. “You two laughed at the pizza parlor like there was no tomorrow. You snuggled up in the theater as Jurassic Park took over the screen. When the movie was over, your mom had just enough money in her purse to watch a second movie. You were in heaven that night!”

I definitely remembered. We laughed so hard that night.

We reminisced about finding crawdads in the creek together, tee-ball, my one attempt to attend a Girl Scout’s meeting, and grossing out at the fact that my principal used to pour chocolate milk in his cereal every morning.

“Wow,” I said. “Have we been friends that long?”

“We sure have.”

We laughed about my aunt connecting the freckles on my face with a permanent marker – it’s funny now! We laughed about my bleach blond hair that I thought looked so great, and the “famous” pair of shorts that I had since the eighth grade. My grandma had to sew them up three times.

The room turned somber for a bit as we talked about things that weren’t so happy. I was amazed at  how much my old friend had remembered. There was the time my mom sat for hours in worry after the police called and said I had been kidnapped. I was found. There was the time I was so depressed I had a gun to my head. The phone rang. There was the time the doctor’s said I would never walk again. I did. Tears started to well up in my eyes as other thoughts of my past began to sneak up. He softly touched my hand, shook his head, and changed the subject. I didn’t need to be reminded of those things.

Hours passed as we played catch up. People came and went. We sat quietly for a while and watched them together. He would point and begin to tell a story about their lives. He was way better at this game than I was! It seemed as if he wasn’t guessing, but knew exactly what each person was feeling as they walked through the doors.

Before we knew it, closing time was upon us. I flagged the waitress down for the bill. Apparently, during my trip to the bathroom my buddy had covered. I gave him a sheepish grin and shook my head.

“What are friends for?”

“I got it next time,” I said.

“I don’t think that’s necessary. I’ve got you covered.”

As he got up to leave and hug me goodbye, we agreed that it had been far too long since our last visit. We made a pact to keep in touch. This time I wouldn’t let him get so far away.

He put his hands on my shoulders, kissed my cheek goodbye, and whispered, “I am great. Beer is good. And people are crazy.”

He was gone.