|Things That Happen (standard:drama, 2444 words)|
|Author: Bobby Zaman||Added: Apr 26 2002||Views/Reads: 1799/1139||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|A night of drinking, fighting, and romancing.|
Things That Happen by Bobby Zaman Itís seven a.m. The night ended sometime ago, maybe it was three or four hours, maybe more maybe less, when I crawled into bed. The sun wasnít up. And now itís raging over the horizon, charging through the window, the one I remember opening last night after stumbling in and feeling claustrophobic. Itís seven a.m. Sunday. Caitlin didnít want to come with me. She was pretty upset when we said goodbye. Iíd told her at the beginning of the night that my plan was to drink a lot. I donít think it was the amount of drinks I had, as much as what happened afterwards. Things took a wrong turn after we left the Goodbar. I donít recall being in a fight since senior year in high school. Even then, Iíd be the first one to walk away, as the saying goes. Now, walking away is a whole different thing from chickening out or not standing up. Thatís what Iíd been doing steadily for the last ten years, walking away, but something snapped last night, and then there was the blackout. I met up with Josh, Mandy, and Caitlin after work. Josh and Mandy are married, Caitlin and Iíve been together for five years, it was a college rebound thing, that made a miraculous journey to what it is today, and Iíve been toying with the idea of a ring some time soon. But we all say that, doing it is something else. Josh isnít loaded, but itís no holds barred with him when it comes to drinking and buying rounds. The girls hadnít challenged his wallet nearly enough when I walked in. He hollered my name and heads turned all around the room. Caitlin looked really good. Sheís started wearing these cotton summer dresses more and more, and going to the gym four, five times a week. She tans fast too. I sometimes wonder what she sees in me. I took a seat next to her at the bar, and she kissed me almost coquettishly, which turned me on. We werenít celebrating anything in particular. Just that itís been a while since we all saw each other, and the weatherís finally starting to get better. An excuse to drink on a Monday night was all we were looking for. They were in the midst of a conversation about Nietzsche or Kant or Kierkegaard. Josh has half a degree in Philosophy (he didnít finish) and a few beers takes him closer to a dissertation than any amount of research or college credits. He gives himself a doctorate after every drinking session. Mandy is a receptionist at Ravenswood Hospital, and used to Joshís philosophical ravings. Itís Caitlin thatís hooked on it now, and she goes back to listening to Josh as soon as her kiss leaves my face. Sean, the bartender, puts down a tall rum and coke and I begin sipping it right away. ďHey, Robby,Ē Josh calls out, ďYou know what Iím talking about, right?Ē I put up my hand and gesture that I want nothing to do with deep conversations. Josh dismisses me with a counter gesture. Seanís an actor, a good one, Iíve seen him in two shows. The first was Marloweís Faustus with a local company. The performance space was in the basement of a church on the North Side, with a capacity of about seventy-five. He played Mephistopheles, and I liked his emphasis more on the undercurrents of the character. The other one was an original piece by some pissed off playwright that had problems with everything from abortion to gay marriages to women in corporate America. That one lasted for three performances, and got slammed by four publications the weekend after it closed. ďHowís life on the nine-to-five end?Ē Sean asks me while flipping Click here to read the rest of this story (249 more lines)
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