At some point while reading this, you’ll probably say something along the lines of “You’ve got to be shitting me!”

But rest assured, I shit you not.

I walked down to my favorite local burritoria for one of their signature offerings.

That was not the unbelievable portion of the story.

While I was waiting, I struck up a conversation with the guy sitting next to me who was also waiting for an order.  I recognized him as a guy that worked in the area.  In a fit of awkwardness, he had ghosted me last year on asocial media about the time I moved deeper into the Northwest Portland neighborhood called the Pearl District, only to randomly discover that he works four blocks from my condo…now I see him once a week or so.

That is neither awkward for me at all, nor should it be surprising to you – this is my life we’re talking about here.

“Don’t tell me you have to work on a beautiful day like this!” I say by way of greeting.

“Yeah, but not that much longer, then I’ll get outside.” he responded, using a lot of words for him.  Well, his age group.

I probe as to whether he has anything specific in mind and am a little jealous that he’ll get to enjoy the evening outside since I’ll be heading to work around 7 tonight to complete a special project.

He replies “I might try and catch up with my friends at Laurelhurst Park.  There’s supposed to be a silent disco happening.”

<blink, blink>

<blink>

That was it by the way.

Chris gets a burrito.  Totally believable.

Old Xtopher chats up a PYT.  Yup, completely with in the realm of possibilities.  Hell, it’s even likely.

Silent disco…are you fucking kidding me with this shit?!?

“I feel like I should make sure you know you don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to…”

Laughs.  “I know, why would you say that?”

“Well, here’s what else is going through my mind right meow” I say with a friendly smirk, “I’m picturing a bunch of people in a park busting out their big disco moved to absolutely no music!”

He’s still chuckling.

“I don’t know how old I feel right meow.”

“Stop that” he interjects.

“No.  It’s the only crazy thing I have to compete with that statement.  I demand an explanation.” I say calmly.

He explains.

My burrito arrives.

It turns out that there are actually DJs, which confused me even more.  The last one he went to was a Bernie Saunders fund raiser.

Is it Sanders or Saunders?  Every time I type it I feel like I did it wrong.

There was a school bus that the DJs were using as a stage, but he says he’s not sure the bus will be at this one.

His burrito arrives.  Not sure why I got mine first.

I make a “hurry…up!” motion with my hand and ask “But why do they even need DJs at a Silent Disco?!?”

He laughs again, obviously enjoying his chat with someone who remembers disco from the first time around and explains, “There is sound…it’s just that no one can hear it but you.”

“Thank you…that’s so much clearer!  What am I not getting?”

“Headphones!” he ejaculates in the middle of the restaurant.  “When you donate to the fund raiser, you get blue tooth headphones.  You can tune them any of the DJs and each DJ has a different light color for their ‘station’ so you can tell who everyone is listening to.”

“Oh my gauze.  I love Portland.  I’m not that crazy about you right” he cocks an eyebrow “now, but I fucking love this weird city.”

We both laugh and get up to leave, laughing still.

“See you later” I say as we head our opposite directions.

I get home and have what I can only assume is his order.

“You have got to be shitting me!” I say to Myrtle.