sometimes people just need to let stuff out. you know, so they don't go explode and go a little or a lot crazy. some write poetry, some talk to strangers in public places.
a short while ago, a friend and i wandered into an irish pub. we had a thirst and time to kill. as we worked our way through our first drinks, two men came and sat next to us. old friends who had not seen each other in a while, they had finished catching up and were looking for something new to talk about. and they happened to sit next to us and strike up a conversation. so we discussed what people in irish pubs discuss - life, politics and wham. things were lively, we were on drink two, when at my right ear i heard a voice. i looked over my shoulder to see a man standing there. i was about to shrug him off but he begged me to listen to his story. so i thought, what harm is there in listening?
he begins. he came to this irish pub with a woman he met earlier in the day - a very lovely woman he added. but things got interesting when his ex-girlfriend walked into the pub (a risk you run when you go to the spots that you and your ex used to frequent). it seems this man had not yet forgiven his ex for leaving him and their two dogs. "i've got pictures, let me show you," and next thing i knew i was looking at wallet photos of two dogs in various poses. "cute," i responded more out of politeness than anything else.
"what are you doing?" my friend was getting impatient.
"he's showing me photos of his dogs," i shrugged, still a little confused. why me?
but he was tapping on my shoulder - he still had a story to tell.
so i looked back at him and he continued.
anyway, as i mentioned, he had not yet moved on from his ex-girlfriend. she was probably too young; she was nineteen and he was 32 when they met. his friend was dating her mother. but that hadn't seemed to matter (neither the age gap nor the two friends and mother and daughter double dates) and they had moved in together and adopted two lovely puppies together. things had been going great, he was ready to "breed." things started going wrong when he bought her a volvo.
"don't take this the wrong way," as he moved in really close and gazed earnestly into my eyes, "i want to have the perfect white family." not knowing which was the right way to take it, while wondering what memo i had missed that stated that a volvo is central to having the perfect white family, i said, "ok." my bewilderment must have looked like hurt feelings because he rushed to add - "well i'm sure you and i could have the perfect family but our kids would all have afros." i could think of many reasons why he and i wouldn't have the perfect family but he had a story to tell so he continued.
"she got mad because i asked her to make a payment and so we broke up." i was pretty sure that he was oversimplifying but i said, "ok."
then he started telling me just how perfect they were for each other. he claimed he used to be a pro baseball player and her father used to be a basketball player and started talking about short stops and he must have seen my eyes start to glaze over and my body start to turn towards my friend because he cut himself short and finished with, "anyway, i haven't seen her in two years and so i am off to try to make her jealous." again while my pub-mode brain was trying to make sense of this, i asked - "with your new girlfriend?"
"oh no," he looked at me as though i had just said the dumbest thing, "i'm just going to talk to her. i'm not really sure what i'm going to say but wish me luck."
"ok." again, confused expression must have made him feel that he needed to say more.
"you know i probably will never see you again, " to which i nodded. "i would have loved to chat you up but tonight there are just so many beautiful white women here."
"ok, now you can get lost."
because i didn't want to have stuff i needed to let out.
No comments:
Post a Comment