Four Saturdays

I'm listening to REM's Nightswimming while writing this, so you kinda get what mood I'm in. To compound matters further, a I'm drinking a shot of brandy from a whisky glass. Now we got ourselves some serious writing for sure.

But what to write about?

I imagine a ton of writers have asked the same question of themselves, and a notable few have been able to churn out some classics. Of course a general majority may have just wasted a few hours tapping on the keys only to throw their supposed masterpiece into the bin, which is not far from happening tonight.

Well anyway, on this chilly night, I resolve to end the writer's block that has plagued me for the past months and finally, finally post something. Of course, I doubt anybody'd read this long forgotten blog by now, which is really quite convenient for my purposes.

You've probably noticed the title, yeah that's the thing in bold letters above the post. It's a title that I came up with about 2 weeks ago. I've been carrying it around since then, pretty sure it holds the key to some mystic force that would unfold an opus. I doubt it would, though... the brandy's telling me so. But just to humor myself, I continue tapping anyway.

*****

So maybe I should start with how I thought up the title. That should get some momentum going. Well, as I already mentioned, it started 2 weeks ago - on a Saturday of course. The clock read 1am, I'm chugging some beer with a friend and a bunch of her friends whom I met for the first time. This I normally don't do, since I swore off puking in front of strangers. But then there was nothing better to do (unless I count watching porn online) so what the heck, I told myself. Well, so it was 1:01am and this guy brings out a deck of tarot cards and starts reading into the future.

Now, I don't claim to believe all that psychic mumbo jumbo or whatever else you call it, but I had nothing better to do (I was out, so no porn) anyway. I shuffled, shuffled a bit more and cut the deck. Then I was asked to lay out a certain number of cards on the table - and my future now lay before me in glossy paper cards.

*****

I woke up around 7:00am that morning. It was still Saturday. Unsurprisingly there was no breakfast waiting for me, just the sorry instant decaffeinated coffee that required a bit of effort to prep up. My sorry life indeed. But I had to make the effort not to waste away in bed that morning. I needed to get myself to our meeting place. How romantic that sounds, but it's quite literally where we were supposed to meet - because she asked me to drive for her. She could drive of course, but there was this problem with finding parking space. I was to be there as both driver and valet.

I wanted to talk myself out of it, because it was Saturday after all - the day I proclaimed would forever be reserved for spending the daytime in bed. But for some reason, this day was different. Today was something I was looking forward to the whole week.

Okay fine, for starters it was because I got to see her again. We haven't met up in a while. Not that that little fact bothered her as much as it did me, mind you. But once you've set your mind to believe that every chance might be the one that finally pays off, you kinda get your hopes up a bit.

I got there as slowly as I could. Not late or anything, but just some stupid need to make the most of the time daydreaming and conjuring up best scenarios. The bus helped out a lot, taking its time creeping through the empty avenue making sure each and every potential passenger was stopped for. I got there just in time, turns out the itinerary had changed. She had to go to the hospital to check on her mom.

No, today wasn't gonna be that day.

I had a choice, take the next bus home or come with. Well, as much as I wanted to crawl back into bed the polite thing to do was go with her, I supposed. And so I did.

I must sound so cruel and heartless to you folks. Though at times I am, this was not one of them. Truth is, I've absolutely no use in the hospital for her or her mother. I'd just be in the way. I just tagged along to say hi to her mom, who I figure would remember me as that poor sap hanging around her daughter.

Well anyway, there I was sitting alone at the lobby, waiting for nothing. Things happened so fast that I was unable to take leave, until I had no choice but wait for anyone to come out so I could excuse myself. The vending machine was two floors down, I can't risk going there and missing the chance to say goodbye. I had to endure watching the cute nurses gossip at the triage for a full hour, such an ordeal.

Finally, she came out. I took my leave and proceeded back to my miserable life.

*****

It was afternoon by the time I willed myself to take another shower. I had a date, well a friendly, platonic afternoon date. That mattered little, though. I got out of the shower and realized there wasn't anything to eat. That wasn't really a surprise but it's still disheartening.

So for the day, I only had a cup of decaf.

Good thing was, we were meeting at the foodcourt. So I guess I can grab a sandwich or something when I got there. Not a problem.

Let me tell you a bit about this other girl - she's absolutely the sweetest thing. So sweet, in fact that I have trouble imagining her in a porn flick. I'd start to think of her in a PG18 kind of way and end up slapping myself for such a blasphemous transgression. Which kind of sucks, but heck if there was absolutely anything that I could hold sacred, then I know I've still got a sliver of a chance of getting into heaven. So she was my ticket, in a twisted kind of way.

I'm such a gentleman, ain't I?

I get there, holding an orange. Yeah, an orange. A few days ago, we were texting and she "sounded" all happy and giddy. When I asked her why, she said she had some oranges that afternoon. I sorta promised that the next time we'd meet I'd make sure to give her an orange so I would be sure she'd be happy that day. Yeah, that's how dorky I am around her.

So anyway, here I was holding on to the orange for dear life. I was holding on to it for a full hour now, through the bus ride and while making my way inside the maze they call a mall. I got a few looks from strangers, but what did I care? I was here on a mission - to make her smile and say how sweet I was.

Back to the story, I'm there, holding the orange in my left hand and waving hi to her, and her friends. Apparently, she and I had a different idea of what a date is supposed to be like. Her friends saw the orange in my hand, I almost juiced it right there and then.

Looking back, they took it well. Better than I did, really. I'm not sure if they had any reason to take it otherwise but I pretended that they were as bummed as I was at the beginning, having to make small talk with "orange man". So I saw an opportunity, I asked them if we should order some food.

"Didn't you have lunch yet?"
"Oh yeah, I did. But maybe you wanna grab some snacks?" At this point, I'm not entirely sure why the hell I had to lie. Probably some part of me wanted her not to worry about me. All the rest of me was grumbling in hunger, though.
"We were thinking about going back to see our house. They haven't been there yet."

What I really wanted to say was: Fuck them! I'm hungry and I wanna woof down a friggin' steak, okay?!

"Oh ok, sure let's do that!" A collective groan echoed within each cell of my body. What a pushover! I probably haven't mentioned this, but she lives an hour away. I wanted to take back the orange from her and bite through it like an apple and swallow without chewing.

So there we were, lounging around her house. Them laughing it up recalling those good old days. I managed to smile despite my grumbling tummy. When they finally asked if we should go have a bite somewhere, I nearly bolted out the door like a dog in heat.

*****

I was on a bus again, heading to the pool hall. Me and some friends of mine have this weekly game going. There's really not much to it, just shooting some balls while yapping about whatever caught our fancy. There was something that I looked forward to tonight, though. I could give you three guesses, but I reckon you only need one.

And there she was, handling the cue stick with such care and finesse that I looked like a caveman swinging a club around the pool hall. It amazes me how such small slender hands could beat the crap out of me at a game that is generally thought of as masculine (c'mon, ball and sticks?!). The only strategy that was left to me really was to act all goofy and shit that they'd find me cute enough to spare from humiliation. But girls nowadays? They kick a man while he's down and out for the count, just for giggles and shit.

Well, there was booze, which was a good enough consolation prize as any.

The deeper this Saturday night got, the more pathetic I was becoming. Surprisingly, it turns out okay. She had correctly judged that I was in no way a threat to her ultimate goal of world domination, and we got closer. Kinda like a defenseless puppy or kitten.

Whatever works is fine with me, I always say.

*****

I sort of skipped the part about the tarot cards, didn't I?

Well, I picked out seven cards, four of which were women. They were pretty powerful chicks if I should say so (without offending the fairer sex as much as I could handle). Apparently I am cursed, probably even destined, to submit to the will of these women without a chance at redemption.

At the end though, there is a chance that I could emerge all the better. It boils down to how I wanted to spend the rest of my life.

Cruelly, this is as far as the tarot cards would tell me. No descriptions, no dates, no identities. All it would say is that in the coming days, a choice has to be made. Unfortunately, I have to do the choosing.

*****

:-)