(This is a somewhat longwinded but sincere apology to The Wabbster. Sorry!)
We were already a pitcher down when he arrives. “He” being one of my school buddies…not that I knew him very well in school. After all, he was two years senior to me and it was taboo for seniors to talk to juniors!
My earliest memory of him was when I was in Std 1. Our class teacher had called him in to monitor our class. We were all wondering why he was scrunching one eye shut when he told us, “I was asked to keep an eye on you so…”
Okay okay, sorry for the PJ but that’s the kind of guy he was in school. Simple. Religious. At times a pain in the ass but…sweet. Times change and people change. We’re down two pitchers when he comes back to his favourite topic. Women.
“Man! It’s not like there are no hot women in my office. There are! But what to do? I’ve done them all!!! I’ve done….hmmm….nine girls in the past four months alone!” He takes a long drag from his cigarette and exhales into my face. Damn it! I’ll die of passive smoking by the time I turn an hour older.
I flinch at this and look over at Wabby. He smiles and nods – his standard gesture when he hasn’t heard crap of what you’ve said. In this case he was lucky. He didn’t have this ass sitting next to him and boasting about the number of hot women he had “humped and dumped.”
“Man! But that girl I dated way back in Jan really did a number on me.” Another drag of his cigarette and he exhales into my hair. Damn the seating here!!! “I broke up with this chick and she just would not let go of me! I mean, let’s face it. I’m an attractive guy. No doubt about that. But I told her, I told her, “Honey? We just ain’t happening, you know what I’m saying?””
I look at him blankly and nod and smile, trying to look as uninterested as possible.
“She was pretty hurt, I can tell you that. But then, I think she came up with this plan. You know how women get when they are rejected right? She wanted my attention man, she really wanted it. So she went out and slept with about a hundred other guys hoping to hurt me into coming back to her. Ha! Hurt me! Doesn’t she know me by now? Me? Hurt? Ha!”
Sure dude, then why are you still talking about her seven months later? I mentally tune out and tune into the music and my beer. Wabby’s technique of nodding and smiling does wonders and he rattles on, pausing only to take another drag or go bottom’s up on another mug.
Three pitchers down and the music is finally getting interesting. Now I think Purple Haze plays the best music ever…and that’s the main reason to come here…listen to music, chill with friends and (my fav) head bang…..not to have an impromptu counseling session over deafening noise levels.
I can feel the music washing over me, when there’s a tap on my shoulder. I turn back and he leans in closer. “You know what I’ve finally decided? I’ve decided to stay single from now on. Who needs women anyway? There’s only one use for them…and how many women can you hump anyway? Gets old after sometime. I think it’s time I settled down now anyway. I mean, five years of humping women’s brains out …and here I am. Burnout. That’s what it is. Burnout.”
He shakes his head sadly as if to say, my life is over now. Sigh. Sex is the death of me! And I'm actually living to tell the tale!!! Woe is me.
Wabby kicks me under the table and makes a face at him. I swear. This is the last time I come out with this guy. School friend, not Wabby. Small tip for you though Wabby – act obnoxious enough and I’ll probably swear to not hang out with you as well. No wait, I’d probably just kill you till you die from it. Er….
He now turns his attention to Wabby and leans across the table. “Man! These two hot bitches wanted to come with me today but I said, ‘No! I’m going to meet my old friend and its been ages! So, sorry honeys…you’re out of luck tonight!’”
Standard response from Wabby. Nodding and smiling. But this time, he adds a high five to the deal…which encourages him to elaborate.
“You know, I used to be desperate once but look at me now! I’m perfectly fine! Who needs hot women now anyway? They only cramp your style, don’t you think so?”
Nodding and smiling. “Yeah, I used to be your age once too. Those were my desperate times where I just needed to lay anything gorgeous. Hormones and what not! Man! Those were the days!” He smiles reminiscently and leans back, blowing smoke in my hair again.
Another kick under the table and Wabby looks like he’s like to lunge across and choke him. “I hate this guy!!! WTF??? Hormones???” I pat his hand and smile. Only an hour more to go and we’re home free. Literally.
Four pitchers down and still going strong. When the fourth pitcher arrives, Wabby shakes his head and covers his mug. I let mine be filled. Lost count of how many mugs I’ve had so far. They all seem to mysteriously fill themselves up every time I take a sip.
Just then, they start playing Judas Priest at full volume and School Friend gets up to bow down to the big screen tv. Enter Sandman starts playing after that and he turns around and extends his hand to me. I promptly hunt around for his sweater thinking that’s what he wanted. He gestures again and I realize he wants me to go stand near the tv with him.
NOT! He wanted to frikkin slow dance to Metallica!!! Er….? Hello? Uhm. Ukkaaay..?
The next thing I knew, I was kneeling on the floor wondering what the hell I was doing there and he was flat on his back shouting, “Who the fuck pushed me!!! If I ever find you…”
I slink back to my seat, trying to hide my face and hoping people would stop staring sometime in the near future. Wabby has an amused grin on his face and I shrug back helplessly. Damn it! Why hadn’t we stuck to plans? Then this moron wouldn’t be here and we’d actually be having a way better time.
Moron throws himself on the seat beside me, still explaining his temporary loss of gravity. Then he orders a pint. Half hour later, closing time, he orders two more pints and guzzles them down quickly. By this time, he’s completely out for the count and can’t even focus straight.
The music stops with Nothing Else Matters and the house lights come on. Purple Haze is eerily lit now and without the music, its just not haze anymore! One more pint to guzzle down. That’s four pitchers and three pints down on a total. I look at my watch. It’s 11.10 and my parents have already called twice to find out where I am (I was supposed to be home at 10).
He pays the bill with his credit card, scribbling something that resembled his signature and then got up and tripped out. Wabby and I sigh and pick up his sweater and bag and follow him. He’s outside on the landing, trying to pick a fight with some guy who had told him that he was a sexy dancer.
We somehow make it down the two flights of stairs and start walking towards my car. Half way there, we realize that Drunk Moron is no longer with us. We backtrack and find him leaning on a tree, trying to pick a fight with it.
Wabby and I manage to pull him away from it but he protests loudly, saying that he’ll follow us and not to worry. By this time, both of us have seriously had enough of him so we head on down the road. When we reach the car, we turn back and he’s no where in sight. Great! I think, now I’ll have to go back to look for him.
I drive slowly past Purple Haze looking for him, dropping Wabby at his bike on the way. I don’t see any sign of him. I call him. He picks up and goes….shweeeeetheart, I’m right here!!!
Er…. “Here” apparently is a matter of perception. I slowly start reversing and find him glaring at every parked bike until he stumbled across the car. He somehow manages to get in and I lean over and close the door. Man! Is he stinking of booze or what!
Halfway home, he begins yelling at the top of his voice for me to stop. Apparently no girl has ever dropped him home and never will cos he’ll never allow it. I quietly engage the central locking. Never know what he’d try to do in this mood although….if he jumped out, he’d put an end to his misery and mine in one shot. Hmm…interesting…
Still, it’s hard to drive when there’s someone banging on the door screaming, “Let me out!!!” (And no, it wasn’t because of my driving) and I would have dearly loved to shove him out myself.
I did get the opportunity to do so when we stopped in front of his house and he refused to get out. “No! no! Not home! I wanna go to Taveern. I neeed some more beeeeeeeeer.”
“You’re not going anywhere tonight but home. Out! It’s getting late!” Just then my phone rings and I see its my dad. He NEVER stays up late waiting for me to come home. I panic. He must be really pissed off with me now.
“Moron, I really really need to get home NOW! Get out of the car!”
“Noooooo. I don’t wanna!”
Sigh. I’ve never done this before and hopefully I’ll never have to do it again. I lean over him, push the door open and shove him out. He lands clumsily on the footpath and begins wailing about how he actually let a girl drive him home. Blah. And as Wabby would say, Bleh to him. I hurriedly throw his sweater and bag out after him and close the door before he even thinks of getting back in. Thank God for central locking!
I say a quick goodbye and head on home. Sure enough, my dad is raging at me coming home late. Before I can explain, my phone begins to ring. It’s him. I pick it up warily and say hello. “You left meeee and went awaaaaaaaaaaaay!!!”
Gosh stop whining! I make some excuse and disconnect. At least he’s home safe, the drunk.
Sigh. Wabby, I promise this won’t happen again. Next time, I’ll introduce you to some slightly saner morons. Maybe.
Look at the brighter side though…
…At least you got some entertainment value out of tonight ;-)
