My night out on the evening when Roe v. Wade was overturned:

1) At the alley patio bar, I bump into the (ponytailed) (aging) (white) hippie who talks to everyone, and I get folded into a group that included a (gay) (bodybuilder) (Persian) (PhD) student in a (STEM) field, and I demur from writing his name in the ancient writing system I've been studying, since I'm unsure how to render a word final "-a."

2) A (very thin) (late 20s) (white) woman turns out to be a federal employee who used to work in Peoria, to which I'm like, "Oh, Aaron Schock land," and she then tells me that everyone she knows loves him and voted for him.  

"He's one of those people who can make himself into anyone and so he gets along with everyone," she was like. "My grandparents love him."

"He's a blonde guy with abs," I was like, to which she was like, "He made himself be somebody."

Later that night, I asked her if she had heard about the scandal where he was at a strip club in Mexico City and was photographed touching a guy's bulge through a thong.

"Oh, Aaron...," she was like, "It's always a scandal with him!"

Only, she said that fondly, and not ironically at all, and her eyes rolled up a little bit in exasperation.

3) At the American Legion bar later that night -- yes it was inside, but I made an exception since it was very empty and it was the day that it was -- the (younger) (slightly heavier) (Irish heritage) bartender commiserated about the economy with me, and she said she's never had a job that required her college degree.

So, I tell her about how Katy Perry is keyed into spiritual wisdom and her motto for the first year of the pandemic was not to be attached to anything, but her motto for the second year of the pandemic was, "Open to better."

"I like that," she was like, like everyone always does when I tell them about Katy Perry's "Open to better" motto.

I then told her the one metaphor that I'd recently come across in an essay, about how we're reaching the end of a system based on indefinite future rewards, and how if you don't think there's a light at the end of the tunnel, why would you step into that?

At that, she sighed, and was silent for a bit.

"I like the Katy Perry better," she was like.

4) The (Korean-American) guy who's with us turns out to be the owner of the alley patio bar, and he says his wife owns the local winebar, and she runs the one and he runs the other.

"So do you guys get competitive about who's doing better?", I was like.

"Yeah," he was like.

"So what happens when you win?", I was like.

"I don't tell her," he was like.

5) A (young) (ponytailed) (white) guy near me who's kind of with the group asks me if I've ever seen the Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt, and then we start talking about odder experiences and religious groups, and he says that he actually moved to the area with a guru because they had a thirty acre farm on the outskirts of town, and that in terms of spiritual wisdom, there's like [some Hindu god whose name I forget], then there's Krishna, and then there's [his guru's name, who I had never heard of before].

"So how did you first get involved with the group?", I was like.

"Oh, I was in [a state in the South] and I was kind of a druggie, and I stopped by their meditation class," he was like.

He also said that when he lived on the farm, he lived by "monk rules" with no alcohol or drugs or sex, and it was "pretty awesome," and like 6 or 7 years of his life were like that, which he wonders about sometimes, and he sighed.

Much later at the next patio bar, I took up the conversation again to reach out a bit, and was like, "You know, you have to remember, some people spend 6 or 7 years of their life as consultants..."

"What," he was like, suddenly hardening, and it turned that out besides now being married and selling fruit bark that he makes from these little red fruits from a bush that some people call an invasive species, he's also an IT consultant, and, our conversation never recovered.

6) At that same bar, the (younger) (dyed hair) (white) bartender was like, "I'm Stevie" when I introduced myself, and so I was like, "Like Stevie Nicks" and she was like, "Yes, my parents are hippies," and then we discussed tracks off of Rumours for like ever, and she could see my point that Christine McVie "Songbird" was underappreciated, and "You Make Loving Fun" would be a good karaoke song.

. . .

(That was like a lifetime in a night, and my life used to be more like that. In some certain ways, I feel like I'm occasionally getting my vibe back.)