Turning The Page

I went to Thurman cafe with Vaughn and Andy last night and, as expected, the wait to be Thurmanized was bordering on an hour. I don't know what it is about the sense of accomplishment gained by waiting the famed hour at Thurman's to get a burger, but it does exist and I can't explain it.

As we were enjoying our beverages in the main lobby -- small enough to see everybody, large enough to talk shit about them without them overhearing you -- a small family waited in the corner. The mother and father appeared to be in their early thirties and their son was probably like, 5. I really suck at identifying kids' ages. But that kid had to have been around 5. They chatted softly, probably about what they were going to order (or something else equally lame) while the kid ran amok in the small waiting area -- large enough to comfortably wait, not large enough to accomodate a hyperactive 5-year old.

He had made his way over to our slightly elevated waiting platform and began gnawing on a metal fixture when Vaughn, with his chin resting on his hand, turned to me and said, "Then it's all over."

"What's all over?"
"When you have kids, man, it's all over."

I knew what he meant. It is the difference between "me" and "we", between "you" and the implied plural "you". Turning the page. Growing up. Whatever.

I thought of all the other things that signified that "it" was all over. The odd shift of patience when others hurry and a sense of urgency when others see the opportunity to relax.

Case and point: 
Ordering from a catalogue 
Getting the menu before you are seated

That is when it's all over. For me, anyway.