I was on my way—on my way to excitement. Driving to that long awaited gathering with the crowd from work. Envisioning just how impressed they would be in finally seeing me outside the work environment and in my new car. Getting a feeling over me that I would finally be able to dazzle them with my charm and wit, well not all of them…just one of them in particular, that represented the current personal fantasy of sorts.
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The car stereo had been blasting through the Robin Trower CD---my most recent E-bay acquisition, “Bridge Of Sighs”. My mind had been in thought for so long, never paying attention to the songs. My focus retrieved from its stare into that fantasy…noticing the current song, most appropriately track number 6, “About To Begin”. Yes, it was about to begin. The energy inside of me was growing with the anticipation of getting a break from the routine interaction of work and a chance to enjoy this moment…the moment.
Finally out of my element of “work work work”, this would give me a chance to display that there was more to me than the workaholic I have appeared to be. I must admit that even I was having my doubts as to my constant denial of being addicted to overtime. Maybe I was a workaholic…unable to face the reality of this addiction, thus never starting on the path to recovery. That 12-step path to freedom. Setting me free from the dungeons of lonely nights, without conversation…just deep meditative thoughts that send me spiraling deeper into my philosophical ponderings. Maybe this was the first step. Maybe this was what I needed, what the doctor would have ordered, to cure me of my self-entrapment into the acceptance of my role at work…in life.
Pulling off the freeway, realigning myself as to which way to turn on the frontage road. Left or right, which way will get me closer to heaven? Which way? Which way was the direction to new adventures? Hoping for a new reality drawn from the fantasies in my mind. Did I get off on the right exit? Too much thinking, too much anxious energy of finally getting to have a night out with people…people that I know, or want to get to know because of the availability of interaction beyond this night. Is that not what we all want? Human contact? An outside source of validation? The physical validation of our existence outside of our minds? Communication prospects where there is more than just the acquaintance scenario. Conversation with some real substance, some “meat”.
Slowly maneuvering the car through the double turn sequence. Right off the freeway, left onto the frontage road. Felt it real smooth in motion…the energy surrounding me was elevated. Cruising along, I was looking for landmarks that would instill confidence that my navigational process was correct. Approaching the cluster of businesses that lined up along the street. Mostly closed. Checking the time. Running a little late…outside of the half hour window that was designated as the rendezvous time.
Looking for that familiar vehicle with that statement bumper sticker “Just Another Skinny Little Bitch”. Not in sight. Did I arrive too late? Did they already migrate to another location? Did I miss out on the opportunity to find out if that sticker was true? What was the attraction to someone that was so young? Seeking to fulfill reality with something that was so much closer to a fantasy. Was it in the spirit she displays, the free spirit that had that energy that at times I felt had been taken from me? Hoping to find it again. Why does my brain rush through all these thoughts when it should just be going with the flow of the moment? Why worry about things that are outside of my control? Does it matter what happens? If nothing does, nothing does. If something does, just ad lib if the need arises.
The car is slightly crooked in the parking spot. Hope no one sees me as I back out a little and then in to reposition into the correct parking angle. Not many cars here. Maybe not many people either.
Taking several deep breaths as I approach the bar entrance. Gathering some sense of confidence. Checking my attire for anything that maybe out of place. Double-check the zipper. Up, not down…good.
Adjoining the bar, the sister restaurant’s lights go off as the waitress turns the sign in the window from “open” to “close”. She smiles. I smile back. Positive energy assisting the upward trend of thought, removing a little bit of the unsure anxiousness. Another deep breath.
Looking into the bar, no one familiar. An elderly couple sitting on the south side of the elongated half circle bar counter. Two females sitting and conversing with each other as well as the tank-topped “gentleman” that leans in from one side. I pull up to the bar at a strategic north side position. To be able to view all, observe my surroundings and those that may wander into this space. Looking up at the mirrors that run around the edge of the ceiling, checking the vantage points of view.
Waiting for the bartender’s attention, listening to the bits and pieces of conversation that changes in volume between the party of three, sometimes diverting to include remarks to and from the elderly couple.
“Summer rentals, that’s what’s the big thing now,” the larger female states in reference to the plight of the older gentleman who recently received a notice that his rental agreement was not being extended.
“It’s a sad statement about what’s happening to our community,” adds the tank top man hoping to sound more intelligent than his attire.
The old man agrees but then proceeds to explain that his situation is not all that tragic. The discussion fades and mixes with the background noise of indiscernible jukebox music. The larger lady steps outside to light up a cigarette, standing just close enough to the doorway to allow for some of the smoke to drift into the establishment.
My mind’s eye begins to wander, seeing the details of the environment in which I presently exist. The neatly placed bottles of assorted alcohol and mixers. The bartender attempts to be creative in bringing a wine glass upright with a flip onto the edge of the bar, only to fail. Everyone laughs.
“That could be the most exciting event tonight,” I comment, only getting sterile smiles.
Where is everyone?
“Wha’d ya like,” asks the bartender finally validating my presence.
“What do you have on tap?”
“Just bottles ‘n’ cans,” his shortness with me I attributed to my unfamiliar face. A stranger…an intruder into the local bar scene of a small community. The inability to accept what is outside of the normal routine, the usual faces, the usual conversations, the usual weekend bliss of not knowing different.
“Double shot of Jack and Miller Draft,” the traditional combo I start with whenever I manage to venture out into the social drinking world.
The drinks placed in front of me. Money exchanged.
“Can I have a mug?”
The bartender seems putout, reaches over to a glass and stuffs it into the ice bucket. Oh boy, I get it chilled. Returning with the change and the semi-chilled wet glass, the bartender mumbles his gratitude as I push the tip towards his side of the bar between us.
The small glass, not exactly capable of holding half of the beer, would surely interrupt the ritual of downing one drink after the other. So, I sip the beer until the glass is filled and the can is emptied. Taking two deep breaths. Down goes the double Jack. Down goes the reduced beer chaser. The ritual completed, except the smaller quantity of beer than normal is not very good at chasing the harder liquor. Never cared much for the taste of alcohol, just accepted it as a means of attaining an altered state of mind in certain situations that was desired by me.
Mixing with the earlier inhalations from the remanents of cannabis, the alcohol completes the quest for that level of assisted high I seek to attain. My mind running through thoughts, moving my eyes in total focus of details. Glancing at the mirrors again, noticing how they are angled to allow better viewing of all that sit at the bar. Headshots, back shots…just looking at another wall and its mirrors give a new perspective of the scene. A different angle of the same old story.
I sit there, aligning the two drink napkins in a formation with the empty glasses offset by the empty beer can. Thinking how sad of a story this is, me sitting here maneuvering empty drinking containers as if I was doing some interior decorating.
The buzz is setting in, nice and slowly. The thinner of the two females starting to take on a more attractive look. I close my eyes and then look again. She must be close to my age. I can’t be that old, am I? She catches me in an unintentional stare. She smiles. I had to smile as I could think of only one other alternate action and that was to look away, which in that instant of thought I decided it would have made me look unfriendly or just more so stranger than I must already appear to be.
My attention diverted as a more than husky man walks in. A huge man. A very huge man. The bartender must be happy to see him. The conversation gets louder, everyone knows everyone…except me. I am the stranger in the midst, probably not noticed…or if they do, it is only with questions in their minds as to who I could be and what my purpose was there.
The scene developing further and further away from me, I felt the need to get up and just leave. I do not think I was ever stood-up by a group before. Was this some sort of joke? Probably should keep my thoughts away from that focus. Just a crowd of younger people that for some reason decided to include me on a weekend night gathering. Maybe they decided it was a mistake and started their activities somewhere else…maybe I just think too much with my insecurities getting the best of me. I slide slowly down from the bar stool, making ever so sure that my feet land flat and I remain balanced. It was not because I was into a slight buzz, but because I did not want to add to whatever they were thinking of me…the loner from nowhere that fell on his face.
Taking one more glance at my nice arrangement on the bar counter. I smile, thinking that I am the only one that would know the art that was sitting there.
As I turn to the door, I notice a few familiar faces walking in.
“Hi, SunKi,” words of relief from Amy, the bumper sticker gal, with a surprise hug.
“Sorry we’re late,” Leslie follows up with an explanation as to what had created the delay in their arrival, but it was lost in the thoughts now occupying my mind. Still clinging to the hope of getting to know Amy. Hoping that a reason she invited me to join in these festivities was to do the same. Would surely make for a good evening to be able to bring what seemed to be just a fantasy into reality. Sometimes a part of me would have to come out from the recesses of my mind and kick some sense into me, but at this moment there was not going to be any kicking.
The introduction phase began as new faces emerged from the crowd, as well as the familiar ones. The noise level picked up quite a bit with the exchange of words and shaking of hands, sometimes punctuated with the slight tilt and abrupt nod of the head.
“Sorry about being late, it was my fault,” Amy said with a smile on her face and in her eyes. That everyday bubbly effervescent personality that had me charmed in thought.
“No problem,” I assured her, “I thought I was late and you guys had already left.”
…more to come…
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