“I just don't understand why you want to see her so bad,” she said.
“I don't want to see her, well, I suppose I do, but... I don't know. I really don't know,” he replied.”
“Then don't go.”
“You don't understand. I have to go.”
“No you don't.”
He paused. “I know.”
He sighed and let his shoulders drop.
She walked across the room slowly until she stood before him, leaned forward a little and said, “then don't go.”
The argument had been going on for days now, though this was the first they'd actually spoken of it.
“You know what I'm gonna say,” he said.
“Yeah, but I still don't know why.”
“I don't know. You have to understand,” he paused again, “she used to mean a lot to me.”
“Yeah, then she robbed you and disappeared.”
He wanted to say something, but there was really nothing to say. She was right and he knew it, so he just stood there and stared pleadingly into her eyes.
“Okay,” she said as she turned about and began to walk away from him “just do it. I don't care.”
“Baby,” he said following close behind her, “don't do this.”
“Don't do what?”
“You know what I'm talking about.”
She did. But the knowledge did about as much to keep her from walking away from him as doing so kept him from following.
“Just try to understand.”
“That's not gonna happen.”
“Then just deal with it. Please.”
She turned around and caught his gaze. Her countenance softened, but only a little.
And so they stood looking at one another, trying to understand something far beyond either of them.
“I'm gonna go do this. Okay?” he asked.
“Okay,” she replied.
“I'll be back in a few hours. Okay?”
“Okay. Just don't let her make you pay for the drinks. She owes you enough as it is.”
He smirked. “Okay baby. I'll see you in a while.”
“See you. I love you.”
“Love you too.”
With that he walked out of one door, down a few blocks, and then into another. One that led him into a dark and unfamiliar place that smelled of liquor, cigarettes, and sweat. Strange pieces of kitschy decorum sat on shelves, or hung like sacred objects from a ceiling painted dark enough to hide decade’s worth of tobacco stains.
He maneuvered his way first to the bar where he bought a glass of beer, and after a moments hesitation, one more, before moving to an empty table where he sat in quiet anticipation. As he sat and stared at the room around him, he began to wonder if perhaps the dark walls surrounding him and the multitude of strangers milling about inside had never even seen a drop of paint, but rather, over the course of the years found themselves forced into their current dark disposition through the second hand inhalation of its patrons cigarettes.
After 20 minutes he also started to wonder how much longer he was going to have to wait. With each passing second he began to feel more out of place. Sitting alone at his table with two slowly-warming glasses of beer before him he began to feel the gaze of strangers wash over him like water striking against the beach, tearing away his self confidence one grain at a time. Everyone else in the place seemed to move about like a singular mass, pushed back and forth, to and fro by either the sound of the music as it blew forth with gale force and bounced off the walls, a desire to seek the comfort of familiar faces waiting on the other side of the bar, or just the simple need to keep moving for fear of growing stagnant.
His drink slowly but surely diminished, until it was nearly gone. And then it disappeared, leaving only an empty glass. He looked at the other beer sitting on the table and considered claiming it as his own. He leaned forward to pick it up, hesitated for a moment, then decided he'd prefer to go get another for himself. So he stood up from his chair and began towards the bar, only to be stopped by the sight of her standing before him.
The two of them stood, facing each other without making eye contact.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hi,” he replied.
They paused awkwardly, and continued to stand. He glanced at the curves of her body, caught sight of her long brown hair, but couldn't look her in the eyes. Partially because of the past, and partially because she was the ugliest woman he'd ever seen.
“So,” he said.
“So,” she replied.
“Do you want to sit down?”
“I suppose.”
They moved back to the table and took their seats. The empty glass of beer sat before him, the full one before her.
“I got you a drink,” he said.
“Thanks, but I'm afraid I don't drink beer anymore.”
“What?”
“I don't drink beer anymore. It just doesn't suit me like it used to.”
He laughed. “Are you serious?”
“Yes,” she said, finding no humor in the situation and doing her best to make it quite clear.
“Well, ok then.”
She raised her hand and a waiter came quickly to her side.
“Well hello darlin',” said the effeminate young man, “what can I do for you?”
“Hi Johnny, just bring me a margarita.”
“Sure thing darlin',” the waiter replied, then leaning over to her ear asked, “who’s he?”
“Just an old friend of mine.”
“Oh, a friend.”
“Yes.”
“Well ok darlin', I'll have that margarita out in a second.”
“All right Johnny.” With that, Johnny headed off towards the bar.
“I take it you're a regular here,” he said.
“I suppose so. It's nice to have a comfortable place to go get a drink every once and a while. A place where people are nice to you. Where they don’t judge you.”
“Where everyone knows your name,” he replied with a smile that quickly faded into another awkward silence. The sounds of strangers and of the music all around them only increased the distance between them.
“So why did you call?” he asked after the silence had become too much to bear.
She looked up, their eyes met for the first time. Hers were full of sadness, a strange sadness the likes of which his had never seen before. One fueled by a strange mixture of regret and satisfaction. Satisfaction with the woman she'd become, and regret for all the things she'd lost in the process.
“Here's that margarita darlin',” said Johnny, placing the drink before her.
“Thanks Johnny.”
“Anything else?”
“No, that's all.”
“Anything for that old friend of yours?”
“No, I'm fine for now.”
“Well all right. You two have fun, just call me if you need me.”
“Thanks.”
“So,” he said, “getting back to the point, why did you call.”
“Why did you answer?”
“I erased your phone number long ago. I didn't even realize it was you calling.”
“Oh.”
“So, why did you call me?”
“Well,” she paused to think, “I, well-
“Let me guess, you don’t know”
“I suppose I don’t.”
“Huh. Well that’s interesting.”
“What?”
“Neither of us has any idea why we’re here.”
“I suppose that’s true.”
Perplexed by the strange and unexpected situation in which they suddenly realized they were in, he, and she, found themselves once again overwhelmed by a profound and unsettling silence. The revelation that since neither of them knew exactly what had motivated them to end up where they were at the moment, neither of them really had any reason to be there. But alas, they were there. Confused and burdened by a silence, the likes of which, in even the darkest times of their relationship, they had never known. A silence like the world had stopped for an instant, as though it and everything on it had grown tired of speaking and needed to take a breath. It inhaled, then exhaled, then much to their chagrin it still made no sound. And in this newfound silence they had to stop and wonder if a sound was even needed. In the end they realized it wasn’t, but that didn’t stop them from wanting one. Wanting so much that eventually one came.
“I’ll be right back,” she said.
“Ok.”
She got up, and made her way into the crowd. He quickly lost sight of her, but kept an eye out nonetheless. It didn’t really matter though, the crowd was large, and moved so much that people became like drops of water in an ocean. Stuck in the middle of this ocean, he began to feel more and more alone, until a familiar face emerged from the crowd.
“Hey there sweetheart, do you want the bill now or should I come back?” asked Johnny.
“The bill?”
“Yeah, you know, for the drinks.”
“Well, I’m still waiting on my friend to get back. We might have another round.”
“Sweety, I just saw her walk out the door. She told me you’d probably want the bill.”
“I suppose I’ll take it now then.”
“Ok, here you go.”
He opened the leather booklet and looked at the piece of paper inside to find he’d been charged for two beers and a margarita.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
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