The past few days I haven’t been connecting with friends. For three nights I’ve had the evenings all to myself. I took the opportunity to overcome my often extreme isolationism and I called or texted some friends. They were either busy, out of the state, or didn’t get the message until too late. Of course this would happen when I try to reach out to my friends who I think are becoming more like acquaintances these days. This is 95% my own fault.

Last Saturday my wife had a couple female family members coming over to our one bedroom apartment. Although they encouraged me to stay I knew that I didn’t want to be an intruder no matter how nice they were. Plus, I like it when women get together and talk amongst themselves. I think it’s enriching just as I enjoy hanging out with my group of guy friends.

I knew that I would have been welcomed just fine, but I chose to leave with my newly acquired skateboard and satchel, which included my journal and a short story anthology lent to me by a coworker. I had no idea where I was going and I was terrified to skateboard out in public because I’m awful. I cheerily bid the merry group adu as I closed the door and walked to my car. I sat there for probably fifteen minutes thinking about my next move.

I texted a friend, “Got plans tonight? Wanna grab a drink locally?” No reply. Cars passed with drivers intently finding a parking space. A few passersby. Then a nearly deserted parking lot near Mercer and Aurora popped in my mind. I started the car and headed for the lot. I drove buy it, casing it. ‘Were there skaters there? Any people?’ It looked deserted. I circled around the 5th Avenue entrance and drove straight to the back of the lot where only one car was parked.

I got out and scanned the surroundings, which were becoming featureless in dusk. No one was around except a security guard patrolling the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation construction site. He didn’t even glance in my direction. I texted my friend Travis where I was. It was a significant step for me to venture out in public on a skateboard. I didn’t feel confident, but I persisted. I must overcome my fear of new experiences, social situations, and skating like a rookie.

I pushed around a few laps in the lot. I tried manualing. A man crossing the parking lot stopped me with a “What’s up?” and started telling me about a banked curb that was already waxed and ready for me. He pointed out the location and ahead and continued on his way. I was expecting him to linger awkwardly, but he had other plans as he walked toward Aurora Avenue.

I cruised over to the banked curb he described and realized that I would not be attempting that feat that evening. I skated back towards my car and on my way I rode off a curb and didn’t fall. Triumph! I pulled my cell phone out of the pocket of my too-tight jeans and texted Travis about my victory. We traded a few more texts. I rode off the curb again and learned the secret to a good ollie: always look ahead of you and spot your landing. I would always look down at my feet not looking at where I was going. After learning that lesson I felt confident.

To celebrate my new found confidence I entertained the idea of going to Issaquah to the Rogue Brewery of which I’m a Rogue Nation member. Seconds later I was in my car texting Travis about my mission. He wrote back, “Roll out man.” I was off, headed for a date with a pint of Dead Guy Ale. Exuberant. I relish any opportunity I get to drive the Subaru out on the freeway. Like the matte black Tahoe is to Rob and Big so the Subaru is to me: the UAV—Urban Assault Vehicle.

As I drove to the deep Eastside I contemplated calling a few friends. Isolating thoughts battled within my mind. ‘It would be interesting to have a drink at a bar by yourself,’ I thought, but I wanted to be around people. I had tried the last few nights to socialize, but wound up watching two movies I’d wanted to see for awhile: The Devil Wears Prada and Miami Vice. I dialed Kayce and Chris who live in Preston. It was a couple minutes to 10 p.m. I fought every inclination not to call, ‘Of course they’d be going to bed or they’re settled in for the night.’

To my surprise they were game to join me for a beer. I told them to think about it and I’d be in the bar if they decided to come by. Kayce called me back and said, “Chris won’t be coming because he can’t get his ass off the couch. He’s already in his PJs.” ‘How odd is it that after all the people I called to hang out I’d be having a beer with my wife’s good friend Kayce who I hung out with a little bit in college?’
“I’ll be there in 10 minutes,” she said.
“I’ll be at the bar,” I replied.

The Rogue Brewery was empty for a Saturday night, but it was Issaquah and maybe that’s just how they roll out there. A few people perched at the bar and a few large groups of people in the dining area and that’s it. I sat down and pulled out my Rogue Nation photo card. The bar tender hadn’t seen one of the new cards and I told him the story of how I was peer-pressured into joining by the president of the Nation while I was visiting Travis in Portland last weekend. I ordered a Dead Guy.

Dead Guy Ale is a glorious brew that my wife’s aunt turned me onto over a year ago. One night my wife came back from enjoying dinner with her aunt carrying a jug of Dead Guy ale. I think it was a gallon or just under. Her aunt just bought it for me on a whim. That whim turned into favorite of mine.

Kayce appeared through the double doors and we talked awhile about her wedding planning, their home improvement projects, and then we touched on some of the differences between men and women. Both her husband-to-be Chris and I are “creative” and we both feel that if we’re not accomplishing our talents right now that we’re failures. I think both Chris and I battled with our squandered potential. Kayce thinks that creative potential doesn’t have to be used up in our twenties. She kept saying that we should look into careers that allow us to pursue our creative endeavors on our terms. My wife first brought up the concept of a career that allows me to live a lifestyle that I enjoy: traveling, eating good food, donating money, and producing funny creative projects. I’m still thinking about this.

By the time we started venturing into deeper discussion the bar was empty save some committed stragglers. Kayce finished her beer and I finished mine too. The bar tender asked if I we wanted another, but it was 12:15 a.m. and I wanted to go to bed. I paid for the drinks using my Rogue Nation discounts. 4 beers and one plate of Idaho Buffalo Chips came to $21. Beer is cheaper in Issaquah.

Kayce and I parted ways with a hug and well wishes. “Say Hi to Chris,” I said. “Say Hi to Faith,” she said. I stepped outside to an empty parking lot and a dark street jubilant that I had overcome one battle against my isolationist tendencies. It felt good to connect with a friend and enjoy a good beer. I’ll have to do more of that.