Something I didn't expect about learning to drive at 30: the instructor assumed I was nervous about the mechanical parts — steering, braking, mirrors. I wasn't. I've played enough driving games that the controls felt natural almost immediately. What terrified me was other people. I couldn't predict what the car next to me would do. I couldn't tell if someone was about to change lanes. I had no model for how real humans actually drive versus how the rules say they should. The instructor told me "you'll develop a sense for it" and I thought, that's not teaching, that's just exposure therapy with a seatbelt. I passed on the second try. I still don't fully trust my instincts on the road, but I trust them more than I trust the turn signals of the Honda Civic in the next lane.

Third shift at a gas station in rural Ohio, winter of 2019. There's a regular who comes in every night at 2:15 AM and buys a single banana and a black coffee. Never says a word beyond "evening." I have no idea where he comes from or where he goes. There's nothing open for miles. One night the power went out during a storm and I was standing behind the counter with a flashlight. He walked in at exactly 2:15, looked at the dark store, looked at me, put $1.50 on the counter, took his banana and coffee, and walked out. The register wasn't working so I just pocketed the $1.50 and wrote it up as a loss. I think about that man once a week. I never learned his name.