trailing clouds of glory
Hey everyone,
Sorry for not posting for a couple days. I met C in taegoo, and it was a busy weekend.
Okay, I don't even know where to begin . . . .
C just broke up with his girlfriend, U, and he's been having some trouble getting over it, and I was telling him that maybe getting over it wasn't what he needed to be thinking about so soon, maybe he should give himself time to be sad, and be as emotionally honest with with himself as possible, so things take their natural course. Well after I told him that, he seemed much happier.
We were in a small bar and C ordered a guinness, and before I knew it, he chugged the whole thing, the dark liquid draining quickly from his up-turned glass, and when he slammed his empty class on the table, he gave me a mischevious grin that I hadn't seen in a long time. I knew there was going to be trouble.
"Yo-gi-oh!", he yelled to the bartender, who'd seen C like this before and had a look of shagrin on his face. "Yo-gi-oh" C yelled again, making the bartender jump. "Mik-jew, jewsayo".
While the bartender was pouring C's drink, he looked at me, then at my half-empty glass of san-mic-jew, and said "drink up, buddy, we're going out on the town tonight."
Damnit, I thought. You all know how I feel about getting drunk and going out to night clubs. There are always waster korean girls there who hit on me, and they never speak english, so as soon as they see I can speak korean, they will not leave me alone. And the sleezy foreigners always bump into me, and want to have the most banal conversations--not here to make friends, pal.
The bartender meekly brings C his glass of guinness, eyes averted, and C takes the beer, and holds it up near his cheek, obscuring the dim bar lights, and casting a sinister shadow on the right side of his unshaven face. His nose is getting red. I'm nervous. "Time for a toast, Charlie."
He knows I hate it when he calls me Charlie.
He pushes my shoulder, and I nearly fly off my stool, "Time for a toast" he says again.
There's no arguing with him when he's like this, so I hold up my sang-mick-jew, and C looks me in the eyes, and in his, I see a combination of pain and exilliration. He wobbles and the brown froth of his guinness wobbles, too. "A toast", he says one more time, loudly. Some people in the bar look at C, but he just stares at them for a second, and they look away.
I'm holding up my sang-mic-jew waiting for the toast, but C is quiet now, contemplative, so I wait for him with my glass in the air. Finally, he looks at me, and I can see a tear has fallen from his right eye. He'd never admit it, though. He begins the toast: "You know I lived her, Charlie, and I probably always will." I nod. "Fuckin' women!" I jump. "Tonight, I'm with you, Charlie, and we're going to have a fuckin' blast!" We touch glasses, and C tilts back his head and I'm in awe at how fast he empties his glass, his adam's apple moving up and down franticly, his hand clutching the pint.
He's finished before I start, and when he slams his glass on the table, he just gives me that look, so I know what I have to do? I tilt back my head and drink as much of my sang-mick-jew as possible. The burn on the back of my throat reminds me of new years eve 2002, of hope and horror, and I drink on, eyes closed, head back, and since I can't breath through my nose, I stop just before I suffocate, and put my glass on the bar, and look at C who is smiling at me.
I feel the buzz. I feel my face heating up, and I'm ready to throw caution to the wind, with C by my side.
"Pussy" he yells, pointing at my glass, which still has beer in it. He grabs it and drinks it all in one gulp. C slams my glass on the bar and yells "yo-gi-oh, ol-mi-ao" and the bartender meekly walks toward us, secretly happy to know that we're leaving, he's seen us like this before, and it wasn't pretty. "Sam-monnun" says the bartender, and when I go to pay, C holds up his massive hand, and says, "No, tonights on me" and then he laughs a manical laugh, that makes me shiver, pays the bill, and without saying consamnedaa, walks out the door, his shrt tails trailing behind, his body in sillouette from the outside light, his step sure, and I run after him with our jackets under my arm.
I'm in trouble, I think, I'm in trouble.
More later
caio
chucks
Sorry for not posting for a couple days. I met C in taegoo, and it was a busy weekend.
Okay, I don't even know where to begin . . . .
C just broke up with his girlfriend, U, and he's been having some trouble getting over it, and I was telling him that maybe getting over it wasn't what he needed to be thinking about so soon, maybe he should give himself time to be sad, and be as emotionally honest with with himself as possible, so things take their natural course. Well after I told him that, he seemed much happier.
We were in a small bar and C ordered a guinness, and before I knew it, he chugged the whole thing, the dark liquid draining quickly from his up-turned glass, and when he slammed his empty class on the table, he gave me a mischevious grin that I hadn't seen in a long time. I knew there was going to be trouble.
"Yo-gi-oh!", he yelled to the bartender, who'd seen C like this before and had a look of shagrin on his face. "Yo-gi-oh" C yelled again, making the bartender jump. "Mik-jew, jewsayo".
While the bartender was pouring C's drink, he looked at me, then at my half-empty glass of san-mic-jew, and said "drink up, buddy, we're going out on the town tonight."
Damnit, I thought. You all know how I feel about getting drunk and going out to night clubs. There are always waster korean girls there who hit on me, and they never speak english, so as soon as they see I can speak korean, they will not leave me alone. And the sleezy foreigners always bump into me, and want to have the most banal conversations--not here to make friends, pal.
The bartender meekly brings C his glass of guinness, eyes averted, and C takes the beer, and holds it up near his cheek, obscuring the dim bar lights, and casting a sinister shadow on the right side of his unshaven face. His nose is getting red. I'm nervous. "Time for a toast, Charlie."
He knows I hate it when he calls me Charlie.
He pushes my shoulder, and I nearly fly off my stool, "Time for a toast" he says again.
There's no arguing with him when he's like this, so I hold up my sang-mick-jew, and C looks me in the eyes, and in his, I see a combination of pain and exilliration. He wobbles and the brown froth of his guinness wobbles, too. "A toast", he says one more time, loudly. Some people in the bar look at C, but he just stares at them for a second, and they look away.
I'm holding up my sang-mic-jew waiting for the toast, but C is quiet now, contemplative, so I wait for him with my glass in the air. Finally, he looks at me, and I can see a tear has fallen from his right eye. He'd never admit it, though. He begins the toast: "You know I lived her, Charlie, and I probably always will." I nod. "Fuckin' women!" I jump. "Tonight, I'm with you, Charlie, and we're going to have a fuckin' blast!" We touch glasses, and C tilts back his head and I'm in awe at how fast he empties his glass, his adam's apple moving up and down franticly, his hand clutching the pint.
He's finished before I start, and when he slams his glass on the table, he just gives me that look, so I know what I have to do? I tilt back my head and drink as much of my sang-mick-jew as possible. The burn on the back of my throat reminds me of new years eve 2002, of hope and horror, and I drink on, eyes closed, head back, and since I can't breath through my nose, I stop just before I suffocate, and put my glass on the bar, and look at C who is smiling at me.
I feel the buzz. I feel my face heating up, and I'm ready to throw caution to the wind, with C by my side.
"Pussy" he yells, pointing at my glass, which still has beer in it. He grabs it and drinks it all in one gulp. C slams my glass on the bar and yells "yo-gi-oh, ol-mi-ao" and the bartender meekly walks toward us, secretly happy to know that we're leaving, he's seen us like this before, and it wasn't pretty. "Sam-monnun" says the bartender, and when I go to pay, C holds up his massive hand, and says, "No, tonights on me" and then he laughs a manical laugh, that makes me shiver, pays the bill, and without saying consamnedaa, walks out the door, his shrt tails trailing behind, his body in sillouette from the outside light, his step sure, and I run after him with our jackets under my arm.
I'm in trouble, I think, I'm in trouble.
More later
caio
chucks
posted by Bar Bar Butt @ 6:26 PM
1 Comments:
At 10:22 PM,
Anonymous said…
Hi chuckles
big nite on the town huh? your friend C sounds like a real handful, I hope you were OK and didnt get into any trouble because I know sometimes you dont know when to leave your friends alone when they are on a oneway path to destruction
loyalty is one of your best traits.
The advice you gave to C was very wise, he should embrace his sadness and let it become a part of himself because sadness is what life is and if you accept that you can begin to see the gaps in the clouds when they appear
Thinking of you
*hugs*
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