The call came in late yesterday, and before long I found myself sharing beers with John, Kay and Vincent. I was planning a get-together on Thursday, but they pre-empted me, knowing I was dying for news - especially about John’s situation. All three were my ex-colleagues, so it wasn’t surprising that talk veered from John’s current problems to stuff going on in my office to odd reflections on the absolute hawtness of women parading through Modesto’s in Eden. They were keen on getting a large supply of liquor in their bellies, and I found myself complying - if not for the joy of drowning myself in hard stuff, then because we were back together again, all four of us, after more than six months being apart.
They had beers going, and cocktails and tequilas were passed around. By seven that evening, I nursed a headache and a slight buzz: almost too early to start getting wasted. I brooded, but kept up my poker face, watching them. Except for Vince, the rest of them had the air of people drinking to forget. I wondered if the dissociation of being away from the ‘cradle’, so to speak, made them feel alienated. Kay felt that way, I think; he missed the friendships, but hated being where I still slaved away. There were times, amidst the haze of alcohol, when I felt they were trying to convince themselves, more than I, of their good fortune. I didn’t care, because I was with them, and we were with each other. There was a sober, quiet core in the midst of all four of us that night.
Vincent decided, at one point or another, that he had to finish the rest of his Black Label up in the lounge. More than anything, I suddenly felt the need to drown in the stupifying confines of a glass of good whiskey. I could feel the rest of us warming to that thought, and we found ourselves stumbling up to the fifth floor. The music was a loud, crappy something someone was singing. Three someones actually, all with black tops and jeans. They swayed to the music, unconvincing, while the crowd sat transfixed, watching the large pull-down screen above the ladies, waiting for the next World Cup fixture.
I can’t be arsed to remember the rest of the night. We made Kay sober before we stuck him in his car. We then ate something Chinese I think, and… I think about today. There was a quality to today that seemed to reaffirm and amplify all the jumbled emotions of yesterday. I can’t bring myself to remember today, either. I sit listening to Keane’s new single. Powerful lyrics, beautiful track. I thought it was U2 on the radio when I first heard it, and was happy; it sounded as if they had returned to their glory days. I feel indifferent.
Sometimes it’s hard to know where I stand,
It’s hard to know where I am,
Well maybe it’s a puzzle I don’t understand.
Sometimes I get the feeling that I’m
stranded in the wrong time
where love is just a lyric in a children’s rhyme.
You should hear the rest of it.