The 'she said...'

He is a friend to strangers, and a stranger to friends, but for a select few. And he likes it that way.

He spends most of his time inside his own head, trying to fix the world... I think he might actually do it one day.

He's smart, intellectual in a way all his own. It drives people crazy. And it draws them to him, though no one has ever been able to figure out why.

He talks to himself constantly, a new dilemma turning the gears of his mind. At any moment, he could decide he needs help with it and ask you a question you can't possibly understand.

He listens, better than most. It's part of his intrinsic desire to 'figure out' the human condition, but it's always nice to know his attention's only on you.

He has no sense of self-discipline, and it infuriates me, because things always seem to work out for him anyway.

He loves his family. He carries their every problem with him wherever he goes. It's endearing, but he wouldn't know it. It's who he is.

He's torturously charming, brilliantly quick-witted.

He dreams of an ethical world, not a perfect one. He'll learn everything he can to make it so.

He's unfailingly determined, repeatedly impulsive, and recklessly optimistic.

He has impossibly blue eyes.

And I love him.

How can I ask him to live with this forever?

The 'he said...'

She exhales smoke into the darkness and watches it take to the air, something she knows she was born to do...

Some call her cynical. She believes she's grounded.

She's fiercely loyal. To her friends, her family.

When she loves you, you'll never second guess it, never question it.

She's so talented... It amazes me. It makes me jealous. She has something wonderful to give the world and it comes so easily, so naturally to her.

She wants amazing things, and she'll get them. She deserves them. I want them for her.

She has plans. Dreams that will come true in a heartbeat simply because she wants them enough.

She's ambitious, driven... Passionate. More than I'll ever be.

She's beautiful.

And I love her.

How can I ask her to throw anything she is away for me?

Conversational post-mortem...

There are seventy two cents on my coffee table when I tell him we've made a mistake.

He knows something's wrong, has to, as he climbs the thousand stairs to my apartment. I don't ask him over 'to talk.' I've never begged for his company before. He's not an idiot.

Ok, sometime's he's an idiot.

I can see his eyes when I say the words no guy really ever wants to hear. I guess I'm somehow surprised they're still blue. These can't be the same eyes I've looked at a thousand times, laughed into and loved at one point. This is an expression I've only just recently understood, one I've mastered myself. Shock and terror, an entangled mass of worry that blinds you instantly to anything else. I keep speaking. He can't hear me.

There are words in his head, angry ones, sad ones... Questions that beg themselves into life. None of them seem to matter enough to make it out of his mouth. The air's too heavy, hanging in the small apartment, threatening to suffocate them both at any moment.

I know this man, sometimes, more than he knows himself. I know his beliefs, his plans, and his dreams, as well as I know my own. At one point in our lives, they were in sync. We wanted each other forever, loved each other because we had no concept of it. That was a long time ago...

His thoughts are echoing mine now, racing back in time to the love that was, the connection that we shattered months back. Icicles hitting the sidewalk in spring, melting away into nothing with the sun. We were fire and ice in impossible harmony, passion and temptation in a dead heat for first. When we were, we were exquisite.

That was so long ago. We aren't there now and we both know it. It's funny though, the things you forget when faced with this. I don't seem to know anything now. What I want, who I am...

...who we are.

He reaches for a cigarette and starts to pace. There's isn't a lot of room. I light my own cigarette and stare at like it's going to give me all the answers. I stay on the couch. He moves like a caged animal around the space, all sharp turns and harsh exhales. He's lost. We both are.

He turns to me after what feels like eternity, and says, eyes red and face drawn, "Ok. Let's talk about this."

I prepare myself for the longest night of my life. And as I light another cigarette and become more of an adult than I've ever been, I stare at the coins on the coffee table.

And childishly wish that any of this made sense.

Conversation pending...

Hey. We have to talk. Yeah, I know you have to work today. So do I. But that's later, isn't it? Umm... I don't think the coffee shop's the greatest idea. Can you come over? Well, it's kinda serious. After work? Sure, I guess, that'd be ok. My place then? No, no, it's not that. It's not about the restaurant. Plans haven't changed there. Yep, end of February. I know, so sad. We'll be ok. You're moving anyway, right? Yeah, July. Ok, so we'll talk later then. What's that? Yes, it's big. Will I be ok? I don't know, I really don't know. I guess...

So... I'll see you later then? Ok. Well. Bye.

Momentary lapses...

I'd like to pretend that I've never made a mistake.

That, of course, would be a big fat lie. I've certainly made my fair share. They vary in intensity, from the miniscule to the ridiculous. I don't believe in regrets, so I've gotten over them, learned from them and tried not to make them again.

Hey, nobody's perfect right?

I had one of those moments a couple days ago where everything I knew about the past suddenly became irrationally irrelevant. So I made a mistake.

Let's review what I am supposed to know, shall we?

A. The EX and I are no longer physically intimate.
B. Revenge is not a good reason for sex.
C. Jealousy is not a good reason for sex.
D. Excessive consumption of Jameson, and you should turn off your phone.
E. The spare key to your apartment should be hidden in a different location post breakup.
F. Candles and wine are romantic.
G. It is always a good idea to double bag your groceries.

Yes, yes...but how?

Sometimes, all it takes is a breath...

...the simple space of one exhale and your life is changed forever. And you know, with absolute certainty, that nothing will ever, can ever be the same again.

This is not one of those moments.

I believe it can change things, sure, but not forever.

Maybe just for today...

Intimacy. And Ice Cream...

To speak figuratively, lonliness is a four letter word to me.

To put it literally, I fucking hate it.

Give me angst, anger, rage, pain...hell, give me the flu.

Just don't give me lonliness. It might be the one emotion I can't write, drink, or joke my way out of.

I don't believe however, like most people seem to, that the cure for lonliness is companionship. The idea is that once there's someone next to you, that lonliness is over and done with. It's not.

No matter how many nights you go to bed with someone...

You still wake up alone.

That being said, the real cure for lonliness is intimacy. Not only is there someone next to you, but there's someone that knows you. And I'm not just referring to sexual intimacy...

Sometimes, it's falling asleep next to someone, and sleeping better than you have in weeks just because they're there. It's noticing, two days after they've gone, the match left on your bathroom counter and laughing hysterically because it reminds you of something gross but it's so typically them...

And lonliness disappears with intimacy... That and some chocolate ice cream and I'm all better now.

Retribution sings "Hey Mickey..."

So, I've done some particularly crappy things in my life.

We're talking bad here, bad enough to put me on the Naughty List for, oh I don't know, eternity.

Seriously distasteful things that give Karma just cause to deliver a swift kick to my backside.

That being said, I realize I deserve what's coming to me... You know, seven years of bad luck, plague of locusts, rise of evil genius Tom Cruise to absolute power. That's how Karma works, right?

But I ask you Karma, oh controller of my current slew of predicaments, must it all take place now? Am I bound to have one bad day climbing on top of the next like sex starved geeks at a singles bar? How can I be expected to repent my previous evils if all I want to do is resent what's being done to me now?

All this job-losing, fear of homelessness, raging jealousy and stupid lying man insanity in a week...

And the worst Karmic kick of them all:

My favorite bar now has kareoke on Thursday nights.

Oh, the horror.

Oddly enough... I think I might survive this.

-L

Thinking...

I've thought.

I need to get out of here. I'm forming serious sentimental attachments to customers.

...and falling in love with bartenders.

Customers and friends...

Well, I have returned to the Frozen North.

Ater a fantastic thanksgiving weekend in Reno, I was trapped last night in the Philadelphia airport, grounded by a bad snowstorm somewhere between the east coast and home. I was put on a plane to Chicago at six a.m. today, and, after more waiting around, secured a flight to Minneapolis. I immediately drove home... I had to work at five.

Exhausted and cranky (I also quit smoking this weekend) I got to work just in time. After checking in with everyone, I checked my email. There was one from my general manager with "Chris and Mary"* in the subject line. As they are two of our favorite and most frequent regulars, I was curious to read:

Jane called today. Just to let everyone know, Chris and Mary lost their baby. The next time you see them please do not mention it. Thank you.

I was, quite simply, devastated. The uncharactaristic brevity from my GM told me she felt the same way. Chris and Mary have been trying to conceive for some time now, and were overjoyed a month ago when they found out they had... We celebrated with them, cried with them, bought gifts and talked baby showers...

As much joy as this gave all of us, this news will grieve us more.

And now I wonder... Have we crossed a line somewhere?

Should I, as their friendly neighborhood bartender, be so damned upset about this?

Have we blurred the line between customers and friends?

If we have, is it wrong to have done so?

I have thinking to do...

*Names changed because- well, just because.