I check my watch. Its time. The cold rain falls softly from the gray sky. I pull up the collar of my jacket to cover my ears. No thunder rumbling, no lightning zigzagging, no wind harassing. The rain simply falls in a quiet pattern.
I step out of my car and head towards the door, my boots sloshing through muddy puddles. I open the door and step inside, wiping my boots on the black rug. I pull my now damp jacket collar back down as the receptionist greets me.
Before I can tell her I’m meeting friends, I hear my name being shouted from an adjacent room. The receptionist and I both look in that direction. My friends sit around a round table, waving me over.
“I’m guessing that’s you?” The receptionist asks.
I nod with a smile.
“Enjoy your meal,” she says.
I head to the table where my friends all stand up to greet me, hugging me, shouting my name like I’m someone special.
To them, I am. These are my people, my friends.
The rain covers the windows in streams as we laugh and request endless amounts of chips and queso.
For a moment everything is perfect.
