Right On Time

by Pam Hawley McInnis

Not long ago, I called my married, settled friends, the ones who ordered pizza in and rented movies on weekends, old homebodies before their time. Friday night wasn't Friday night unless it involved too many shots of vodka-and-something, glances exchanged with some guy at the other end of the bar who had probably been there since noon, a pee-dance with my girlfriends while we waited for some drunk chick to reapply her makeup in the bar's tiny bathroom, a crowded cab ride home, and watching the sun come up before tumbling into bed. But last night, you carved our jack-o-lantern and made him look like a pirate while I ordered Chinese and found a scary movie. We curled up on the couch, and you tickled me just as the creepy music kicked in, making me jump. We watched our movie in the darkness, the glow of our pirate pumpkin and the warmth of your body next to mine much better than any vodka-and-something pee dance I've ever known. This morning, I drank coffee on our deck and watched the sun rise, and decided that instead of being an old homebody before my time, I've simply found home in time to avoid life getting old.


Pam Hawley McInnis lives, works and writes in Baltimore. Some of her additional work can be found here.