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Beer
and Chaos II
By
Joe Romano
Later…after two more beers apiece and several cigarettes, purchased on a tipsy impulse from a corner Walgreen’s…
A fresh round of beers having just been placed on the table, he watches the waitress wind her way back toward the bar. Still gazing after her he says, “Do you ever want to get in your car and just go, just drive away from everything you’ve ever known and start over?”
“I have,” she answered, lighting another cigarette against her better judgment. “When I went to school and again when I moved out here.” She tilted her head back and blew smoke toward the space heaters.
“That’s true, isn’t it? I think that’s part of my problem. I’ve never lived anywhere else. I feel like I’ve missed out on a huge, life changing, growth experience and it’s too late to ever change it.”
She gave him a small smile and said nothing but the sympathy was in her eyes. The man sighed.
“I miss this too; the bantering. You know the stage where she thinks I’m funny, witty and unique? I suppose that eventually everyone’s shtick gets old and all love becomes a cool volcano. I read that somewhere, the bit about the cool volcano. You know what else I miss? The exploration; discovering the little details about her; the shape of an ear and her response when it’s kissed, whether she paints her toenails, what she wears to bed, what beer she drinks, though I’ve got a pretty good idea about that one already. I love that stuff when it’s all new. It’s not like later, when they’ve seen you at your selfish worst and know all your annoying quirks and idiosyncrasies. When your thoughts aren’t deep or poignant, only boring. Maybe every relationship is doomed to end up there eventually. The cool volcano.”
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe that’s why I enjoy being single.” She smiled slightly, gently swirling the beer in her glass. “ Is that how it is for you now, boring and ‘poignant-less’?”
“I don’t know” he sighed again. “Sometimes. But I guess life is too crazy to classify it as boring. It’s more that it just doesn’t feel like my own. That sounds selfish, I realize. I honestly don’t know what’s wrong with me. I should be happy but I’m not. Well, that’s not true either. Not as often as I should be, all things considered. Things I should enjoy I don’t, or I DO but I want other things too. It’s so fucking hard to explain. I just never feel satisfied. I’m sorry, I know how this must sound. It sounds like a lot of shit to me too.”
She drank some beer and took a long drag on her cigarette. He removed one from the pack and she wordlessly passed him the matches. He struck one and lit the cigarette, waving out the match as he took a healthy drag, held it a beat and blew it in the direction of the sidewalk, dropping the smoking match in the ashtray. She was looking at him.
“Where would you go if you could?” she asked.
“I don’t really know. Maybe a small town, maybe a big city. Nothing in between though. No suburbs. I’ve had my fill. It doesn’t really matter I suppose, so long as the people don’t know me or have any pre-conceived ideas about who I am.”
He took another drag off the cigarette and blew the smoke out slowly. “It’s weird. I feel like I’m at a point in my life where I should know who I am but I don’t. Let me give you a small piece of advice. Figure out who you are before you give yourself to someone else. Maybe you already have. Figured it out I mean. You seem to have your head on pretty straight. You’re obviously bright and you certainly give the appearance of being self-confident and secure. I hope that you are.”
She finished her beer and looked up. “Idaho’s nice.” She cracked a big smile at him. “Come on, let’s get out of here,” she said taking his hand and leading him through the maze of tables. At the sidewalk she dropped his hand and began walking south on Front Street without a word. He followed. What else could he do?
Copyright © 2005 Joe Romano
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