The best beer this year

I was talking to my sister last night when I heard a knock at the door. I peaked through the peep- hole, and saw a distorted man looking back. 15 minutes before this heart attack, the local news told me there is a rash of armed burglaries going on in Austin.

Last week the news informed me there was a serial rapist breaking into people’s home. I spent the next four nights staring up at the ceiling wondering when I would hear my back door creak open. For obvious reasons I’m not allowed to watch the local news, and national news is out of the question.

The knocking starts again. I’m convinced this man has a gun in the back of his pants, and is waiting for me to open the door to my sparsely furnished one bedroom apartment. He’s probably doing such savage things so he can get his filthy claws on my 1920’s metal teacher’s desk and stack of Cooking Light Magazines. I quietly exit out the back door, and light a cigarette in hopes that when I get back inside I won’t hear any knocking.

I’m sitting on my back stoop when my neighbor opens his back door. “Hi Amir!” I smile up at him. “Hey.” He looks confused. “Why didn’t you open the door?”

What to say? I could tell him the truth. I am a neurotic mess who is barely capable of living in an unassisted facility due to my illogical fears spurred on by the local news. Or I could lie. What knock? Sorry I guess I didn’t hear you pounding on my door. When you heard me tell my sister that I wasn’t opening the door because some weirdo was out there, I was just kidding around.

I chose to go with the truth. It’s just easier. Amir apologized for scaring me, although he looked a little perplexed, and offered me a beer. Yes, this should calm the nerves. Amir is half Spanish and half Portuguese, and 100% not bad to look at. He pulled up a lawn chair and we sat outside talking about the spiders that decided to invade our houses, and the differences in judicial systems around the world.

It was magical in that warm summer’s night way. I sat back realizing how beautiful life is, and how beautiful people are. Unfortunately Austin is the Wonder Bread capital of the world, so the opportunity to talk to someone with a rich background is a blessing.

We talked about the lessons we’ve learned thus far. We reveled at being the youngest in our families. We laughed about our irresponsible siblings who are confused when our parents don’t bend over backwards for them.

The fireflies came and went, speaking the language of light and trying to find their way to one another. He asked me what I was going to do when my lease was up in July. I have no idea, and furthermore I have no plan. Maybe I’ll move somewhere, or maybe I’ll move home. Maybe I’ll change states, or move to the islands.

For weeks I have worried about this, and suddenly last night I stopped. I realized it doesn’t matter, and more than that I know I’ll be fine. I can breathe for the first time in months. Amir reminded me the most interesting people aren’t the ones with a plan, but rather the ones have no idea where they’re going.

I think that was the best beer I’ve had in years. Amir left to go out with friends, and I sat there in the quiet watching the fireflies try to establish contact. I’m not worried about where I’m going anymore, I’m excited about the journey.