Dinner with Mahsa

I've not seen Mahsa in a least a year, maybe two. She's invited me over for dinner at her place in Oakland.

Her building is on North Dithridge, the same street I used to live on when I was in college. I got there around 6:30pm. I parked on my old street, noting the new meters and muttering internally about Pittsburgh's privization of parking around the city.

Inside the apartment, memories of more than a few incapacitating nights crept from way in the blurry back to way up to the front of my brain. I might have been in this very apartment. I swear that's the same couch I saw here 10 years ago. But then they all have this same layout.