I’m at a stoplight, behind this guy on a moped, and his license plate says OUTATIME and I’m like Oh shit, no he DI’NT get that license plate! And then I inch closer, ever closer, and see it’s not a real license plate but a Back to the Future promo from Universal Studios Florida, although it seems to be the only license plate on the moped, and I start imagining a world where Universal Studios Florida has the power to grant legally OK license plates and driver’s licenses and maybe smog check certifications, and I feel that, the way things’re going, we’re maybe two or three steps away from that happening, just in terms of things like Things That Make Zero Sense But Are Vaguely Horrifying, and then the next thing you know (The day before that I was wed / She went upstairs and she cut her hair away [maybe sic]) I’m following the moped guy, left and right and then into the parking lot and then right into the deli. Turned out we were going to the same place. And now I’m standing behind him, looking at the blond whorls of hair on his neck, and listening to him place an order, and discuss the whole bread selection issue, and he’s what, he’s maybe 18? I.e., born the year Back to the Future came out? And then here’s me, someone who knows what year it came out without referring to notes or websites? And then I’m like: How did our lives become intertwined today, little man. Moments ago you were a chump with a novelty license plate and now you are a human being right here in front of me, taking seriously maybe three times as long to order as you should, full of your own hopes and dreams, your personality quirks, your amazingly ponderous decision-making when it comes to sandwiches, your secret fears, your desire to take your moped up to 88 mph and be torn away from this rotting deli in this collapsing minimall, thrust from this time but not this place.