A couple of years ago, I briefly dated a girl named Karri. She was shy and quiet and recently divorced. Karri had more or less dug a hole for herself in life. The relationship went nowhere and relatively quickly. And it officially ended when she got kicked out of the place she was living and moved to England because an ex boyfriend had invited her there. It was a fitting end to a pathetic relationship.
She moved back to Washington and the last I had heard was working as the editor for a small weekly newspaper near Tacoma. Then she disappeared again. I ran into her at the Vogue a few months ago, briefly chatted with her, met her husband, and found out she had another child last year. But I didn't have much time for anything else than that.
Saturday night, she was out at the Mercury. This isn't too surprising, as she was very into industrial music (which is often played at the Merc). Much more so that I ever was or will be. If she's gonna be at a club around here, it would be the Mercury.
This time, I wasn't on my way out the door. I had a chance to talk to her. She's changed! She was more or less the leader of a pack of people from Yelm. She was dancing! When we were seeing each other, she only danced when blitzed out of her mind, and then only with me up close and personal, slow dance style. She mostly sat and drank and watched people before. Rarely did she talk to anyone. Drinking heavily was the only way she could pull herself out of her shell, and that was a dangerous game as she had a habit of falling over drunk. Saturday night, she was actually moving around the dance floor. She was a lot more outgoing. And smiling as well. I asked her what was up, and her only response to the change in personality was "I've changed." No freaking kidding!