December 30, 2008

• Sharing a drink they call loneliness

  The middle aged gentleman was taking a slow sip of his drink at the counter when a woman burst into the bar from the rain.  Despite the downpour it was amply clear from her quivering lips and downcast eyes that the sky was not alone in its crying.
  “A martini, please,” the tearful woman, a sleek blonde in perhaps her late twenties, prompted the bartender as she sat two seats down from the gentleman. 
  “Wouldn’t it be great if life weren’t so complicated?” the gentleman could not help but say a few moments later as the woman dabbed at her tear-ridden face with a tissue.
  “I’m sorry?” the woman said, looking up.
  “You know, why couldn’t life be arranged like a game show or something like that, where the rules are all very simple and the choices spelled out, instead of us being forced to nagivate the painful world of relationships.”
  “Yes,” said the woman smiling in her tears, “that would be nice.”
  “There is a way.”
  “What’s that?” the woman said, not sure she heard him. 
  “We humans often experience paralysis when it comes to major decisions in life,” the gentleman said poignantly, “We sit at the doorsteps of a million different lives as we consider who to marry, what profession to go into, what sort of person we ought to be.”
  “It is awfully taxing,” the woman agreed as the bartender put down her drink in front of her.
  “So the solution is to realize that any amount of thought probably won’t put you in a better position,” he introduced as his conclusion. “We lowly humans, who are given such a small inventory of variables to control, cannot possibly overcome the infinity of unknown variables aimed at us from all sides.”
  “What are you saying?” the woman asked after a sip of her drink, her brow furrowed.
  “That maybe it’s best when we have some major decision to just pick on whim, and then learn to live with it.  We don’t pick most things, and how crazy would it be if we let anything and everything ruin our days?  We should learn to live with our decisions the same way we live with the weather,” the man said, nodding toward the melancholy day outside.
  The woman laughed, happy the man had decided to talk to her.  “Indeed, it certainly makes sense,” she said, smiling at him, just ready to finish off her drink.
  “Of course it does,” he assured her, “Think of the long hours we spend on relationships, all the pain, the emotions…” he leaned in to her and lifted his eyebrows as he said softly, “the tears.”
  “Thank you for your comfort…” she trailed off, realizing she did not know his name, as she searched through her purse for money.
  “Mark.”
  “Mark.  Thank you.”
  “So, want to get married?”
  “Oh, uh—” she stuttered, having just laid down her money on the counter, ”I’m so—I have—I have to go n—” she finished sloppily as she backed away, suddenly turning around to frantically exit the bar, apparently eager to rejoin the rainy outdoors.

  • 7:16 pm
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