There was Tony, and Bill and Scott.
An early Friday night in the London suburbs.
Bill asked me to light his hand rolled cigarette. Just outside the pub.
This smoking ban is transforming social life. Now people of all walks of life gather outside, getting to know each other in a most City like way.
Bill cigarette is not of the usual kind. More of what we froggies call a "pétard". That's all right.
Tony has three wifes. Or so he boasts. Scott has the arrogance of a newly born, and the tenacity of a hamster on its wheel. Short-sighted and willing all the same.
I gave my usual line about sports, not caring a bit that I would get my point through. How could I?
If all eleven of them had their own ball, there wouldn't be much to talk about.
It's just that they're on the cheap, and pretend to not be able to afford one on their own, so they have to share.
But frankly, is that called a game?
Never mind.
The pétard is going from hand to hand, and the next round of Guinness arrives. All standing in a fresh August night.
Friday 10 August 2007
Thursday 21 June 2007
Wooden bench
In the back of my garden, there's a wooden bench. Enclosed by trees. She's seating there, dreamy. I can see her through the kitchen window. How did she end-up there?
She had called two days prior to my birth-day. I thought it was a sign. But when we met three days later, I understood. She spent the evening throwing darts, and they all reached the bull's eye.
Then events gathered for a summer feast. I had dropped my guard, in the last second, and that single gesture gave her the answer she had already guessed.
She knows I am her only anchor. That her dreams need a base to rest on, and direction to channel her creativity, and stability to blossom. But there's always this dark corner, the appeal from the void, the self destructing call from below. How can she resist it?
She's now smoking, looking up to the top of the trees. I can see that she's recalling the big day, when her perspective changed, and she seems to revive every instant since then. As if, bewildered, she just couldn't believe how simple the change has been to initiate.
I was on my guard. As I always am with her. I just can't let anything slip. I'm walking on egg shells. I know that the slightest faux pas could ruin it all.
And yet... She knows everything. And guesses the rest. And she's right. Only that an awkward situation developed and that none of us can see an immediate way out.
I didn't select her as much as I recognised her. But she didn't understand then. Now she does.
She had called two days prior to my birth-day. I thought it was a sign. But when we met three days later, I understood. She spent the evening throwing darts, and they all reached the bull's eye.
Then events gathered for a summer feast. I had dropped my guard, in the last second, and that single gesture gave her the answer she had already guessed.
She knows I am her only anchor. That her dreams need a base to rest on, and direction to channel her creativity, and stability to blossom. But there's always this dark corner, the appeal from the void, the self destructing call from below. How can she resist it?
She's now smoking, looking up to the top of the trees. I can see that she's recalling the big day, when her perspective changed, and she seems to revive every instant since then. As if, bewildered, she just couldn't believe how simple the change has been to initiate.
I was on my guard. As I always am with her. I just can't let anything slip. I'm walking on egg shells. I know that the slightest faux pas could ruin it all.
And yet... She knows everything. And guesses the rest. And she's right. Only that an awkward situation developed and that none of us can see an immediate way out.
I didn't select her as much as I recognised her. But she didn't understand then. Now she does.
Saturday 14 April 2007
Blackfriars
The other day, I was seating in a pub by myself, next to the garden door. An old chap, walking slowly, stuck his nose out, and retreating, complained:
- The Sun is burning, son, let me tell you!
He then walked slowly back to his table. A few minutes later, I was at the bar ordering a last drink before my scheduled appointment, the old chap called from his chair enquiring whether I could bring him a Guinness, which I did. I sat at his table.
- You see, young man, I've been in this city for 72 years, and let me tell you, at my age, there's one thing you miss, and that's love! If only one person were to care about me ...
- Sure, but that person exists!
- I beg your pardon!
- Yes, that person exists, and that is you!
- I don't like myself!
- But if you don't love yourself, how do you expect anyone else would?
- I had never thought of that!
- You know, no one can make you feel miserable without your permission!
He staid silent. I stood up and left the pub.
I probably won't see David ever again, even though he admitted being a regular. I'm just happy that, even for a few minutes, I have been able to change this man perception.
Think: a Froggie turning a Lord upside down!
- The Sun is burning, son, let me tell you!
He then walked slowly back to his table. A few minutes later, I was at the bar ordering a last drink before my scheduled appointment, the old chap called from his chair enquiring whether I could bring him a Guinness, which I did. I sat at his table.
- You see, young man, I've been in this city for 72 years, and let me tell you, at my age, there's one thing you miss, and that's love! If only one person were to care about me ...
- Sure, but that person exists!
- I beg your pardon!
- Yes, that person exists, and that is you!
- I don't like myself!
- But if you don't love yourself, how do you expect anyone else would?
- I had never thought of that!
- You know, no one can make you feel miserable without your permission!
He staid silent. I stood up and left the pub.
I probably won't see David ever again, even though he admitted being a regular. I'm just happy that, even for a few minutes, I have been able to change this man perception.
Think: a Froggie turning a Lord upside down!
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