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But, after my meet up with my ex-best friend Rodney Pollard, I began to drink at truly Olympian levels. Yes indeed, if drinking were an Olympic sport, I would have been more than a candidate for a gold medal.And, my venue of choice, you guessed it, the Crossroads. Well, it had a certain sentimental allure for me.The problem of thinking is that it is not always possible to not think of the things one doesn’t want to think about. Trust me on that one; I know it as a great truth.I was musing, which is another word for thinking, about what Sammy and Henry had said about finding me another fish in the sea to make my day. Similarly, I was musing about my recent—two days gone—run in with my worst enemy which had done nothing for me except remind me that I had no one to love and nothing I really gave a damn about. One might appreciate how the two musings complemented each the other.I was nervous and not too drunk, not yet. I was going to go for it. I was going to ask a lady in attendance to. “It’s a surprise, I told you!” he responded with a large smile.“Come onnnn!” I protested“No, you need to wait.” He responded as he pulled me out the door and to the car.I went with him reluctantly. I didn’t know where he was going to take me, but I guess I wasn’t going to find out without going with him. I sighed aloud and he looked back at me.“Come on, you’ll like where were going” he said to me as he opened the passenger side door and let me climb in. He began driving and he drove for what seemed like forever, taking twists and turns, back roads to confuse me. I sat quietly in the passenger seat, and tried to figure out where he was taking me to. After almost two hours of driving we finally pulled into a campground.“What are we doing here?” I asked him“Picnic, maybe even camp out under the stars, we’ll see…” he said to meWe pulled over and got out of the car, and he went to the trunk and pulled out a box and a blanket, and headed towards a trail.“Were not going to eat in the open?”.
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