Most Mechanics.....................

Had my car inspected today.

Of course I have nothing to worry about - I drive a 2020 Hyundai Elantra muscle car bought brand new. This thing is a beast.

The mechanic we have been going to for 36 years sold his business last year. An uncomfortable moment.

When you have a 36 year relationship with a mechanic, you trust him and he trusts you. That relationship is more important than your marriage. 

Most mechanics want to rape you and beat you and illegally obtain your bank account numbers so they can bleed you dry financially before they set you up in a criminal scam that ends up with you serving a life sentence with no possibility of parole.

So now we have new guys we gotta deal with.

I picked up my car an hour ago and had a "guy" conversation with a couple of "guys" - strangers to me.

It seemed to go well, but when I got home I had the typical internal debate - was that me talking or was that Performance Joe talking?

The conversation revolved around pub food, pub atmosphere, beer etc. A conversation like that is in my wheelhouse - give me a comfortable bar, cold beer and meaningful whiskey, good food, a cool bartender and an easy-going waitress prone to genuine laughter, and I'm not coming home for a couple of days.

Still, I could have been performing. But sometimes I think that in certain situations Performance Joe is actually Real Joe. I mean it has to happen once in a while, right? The fucking odds have to kick in every now and again.

This felt like one of those situations. But.............I am pretty fucking smooth at coming across as"Regular Guy". Fun bar guy, beer drinking straight-shooter guy, just a working stiff paying the bills and cutting loose every once in a while guy.

So I'm not sure. 

Analysis Paralysis. That's my disease. I am so confused about who I really am after over 50 years of Oscar-level performances, that I overthink every situation.

That's where whiskey comes in. At least up until last October. Now I am in no-man's land, alone with my thoughts and no anesthetic.

Tough deal. I'll figure it out. 2023 is coming along all right. Lost a few pounds, got the exercise thing going real regular-like. I even applied for some phoney baloney job today, just to see what happens. It's an experiment; kind of like jamming a square peg into a round hole just to create a result. Any result.

Maybe that conversation went ok today. Maybe I have two new friends.

When I got home I changed all our bank accounts and rehearsed an alibi with Carol.

I'm not a fucking fool, you know.