The Great Escape

I’m exhausted. What a weekend.

My Saturday starts off with a conversation with my boyfriend Mr. Honey Tongue. We are currently estranged - due to my infidelity - and this is our first real conversation after a month. I run a gambit of emotions during the call. But overall feel happy to have talked to him, to have laughed with him, and even while he is yelling at me, I am smiling because I am talking to him.

After the call ends I am left confused. My classic problem is that I am indecisive. I am unable to make up my mind, I will consider all options, and really only make choice when forced too. I once spent two hours in a video store trying to pick a movie, ultimately, became so frustrated and self-conscious because I was convinced that all the store employees were staring at me, I left being unable to choose.

I feel for the past month I have ignored my emotions, that I have tucked them away somewhere. The call brings my feelings centre stage and I feel sad. I am not sure what I want and how to tell I am making the right choice.

I am saved from a night of isolation and self-pity, because, it’s my homegirl Lioness’s birthday, and my good friends from university are all congregating to celebrate. It’s actually been a good four years since we have all gotten together as a group, and I am looking forward to our meeting. Me, Rasta Lady (my ex), Lioness, and Music Man, were all philosophy majors, and shared a love for music and having a good time. We snubbed our noses at everyone else, and thought we were too cool for school.

Lioness picks Thymless as the venue for her b-day celebration, this roots reggae bar, which plays dope tunes. They have a sick-ass sound in the club, and the place has a real cool vibe. Lioness, of course, turns up an hour-half late, I tease her about this. She retorts, “It’s my birthday, and I’ll be late if I want too.”

I am feeling depressed at being alone. I watch the couples in my group, and I wish Mr. Honey Tongue was with me. Music Man and his girlfriend Yosemite Pam seem to always have their hands interlocked, and they refer to each other in endearing terms. And I watch Rasta Lady while she whines her bottom on her new boyfriend.

I am lost in a moment while staring at her. We dated for three years. And, had a fairly intense relationship. Now, when we talk we struggle to keep the momentum going.

“So what’s new?”

“Oh you know, same old, same old”

“Your still working at…?”

“Yeah, and your still at…?”

“Yeah….”

And then awkward silence. I am slightly saddened by this. Here is a person I lived with for three years. Someone I woke up with and went to bed with, and now we can barley hold a conversation for ten minutes. Of course, it is a given. What are we going to talk about? We haven’t really spoken in the three years since our relationship ended. Still, we had been such good friends first. I make a mental note to myself, that no matter what happens, I won’t let this happen again with Mr. Honey Tongue.

I decide that to combat my glum mood, I need to take a happiness advance. So I split a candE with Music Man, and order myself a double rum and coke.

While at the bar, I notice a cute Indian girl who seems familiar. I realize it’s DJ Amita, resident DJ at Besharam, a gay Indian jam that I like to frequent. I love the music she spins, and think she’s great for creating such a positive and necessary environment.

“DJ Amita?” I ask leaning towards her.

“Yes,” she says looking up at me slightly quizzically.

“I’m the guy that has been coming up to your DJ booth and harassing you the last few months.”

She smiles. “I thought you looked familiar.” We start chatting. I tell her I think she’s a great DJ. “Oh thank-you, I really needed to hear that right now.” We inquire about each others backgrounds, and what kind of music we liked. We both share a love for reggae, and I tell her she should play more. I’m glad that we were able have an exchange.

I get a text-message from Super Size Me, “What you feel bout an afthrs loft party complete w/ party favours? J” I text back “I’m down.” I tell Music Man, and he is interested. I am excited. Me and Music Man haven’t partied in ages, it should be good. I call Super Size Me, tell him where I am, and he agrees to meet me.

Yosemite Pam is not pleased that Music Man is deviating from the original plan, that he will not be returning home with her, and instead going out partying with me. She causes a stink, and I start finding her voice annoying. I get up and leave to let the couple hash it out, at the same time bringing my jealous feelings in check. Yes, it is nice to have someone whose hands you can always hold. But, then you have this, having to deal with their disagreement. Still, isn’t conflict necessary and healthy in a relationship? Two-people will not always see eye-to-eye. This internal debate is bothering me, and I head to the bar and order another double rum and coke.

The night progresses on, we’re all appreciating the serious good music being playing, and even though I kind of want to leave for the after-hours jam, I can’t seem to tear myself away from the music. Eventually, at around 2:45 a.m., Music Man, Super Size Me, and myself bounce, and we taxi ourselves to some warehouse.

We walk into the warehouse, house music is playing, and I instantly want to do a line of coke. I feel too sober to be at a place like this. The e I popped earlier only ended up giving me a tingle, and with my tolerance for alcohol I am nowhere being drunk. I feel burdened by my emotions and want release. Thankfully, Super Size Me invites me to the washroom, and while avoiding touching the pee which was sprayed all over the stall, I lean over and do a couple lines.

I lose myself to the music for awhile. The music is excellent. The DJ is playing some serious old school house, and the beat is conducive to escape.

The high doesn’t last to long. I want more. I am not sure if I have built up a tolerance for chems since I rekindled my affair with them recently. Or, if the emotions I am feeling are too strong to be drowned out by drugs. I decide there’s no point in doing more, it will only bring me back to this same point, only I will feel more sketchy.

Me and Music Man sit down, and have a coke induced heart to heart. I tell him I love him, and we hug. I blather on about my situation, and he listens. He tells me about his situation, and I listen. I am left more confused now, I just want an answer. How do you know that, that person is the one? How can you make that choice confidently? I try to get up and dance, and even though the DJ is now playing sick Latin house, I can only barley shuffle my feet.

I end up crashing at Super Size Me’s place.

I wake up the next day mildly hung-over and extremely hungry. Good thing is, I have lunch today at Red Lobster compliments of The Big Evil Corporation. Our team at work, won some Halloween contest, and our prize was a dinner at a restaurant of our choice. I lobbied that we go to Red Lobster, and my selection won out.

I walk in with my Prada shades on, receive compliments on my appearance, which makes me momentarily happy, and order a double bloody Caesar. The meal is amazing. We order various appetizers, and I must say their lobster rolls - a spring roll filled with lobster - is to die for. I order the Ultimate Feast, which includes, lobster tail, crab, deep-fried shrimp, and garlic shrimp, with a side of mashed potatoes. I am practically forcing myself to finish my meal, because I am so stuffed.

We end up spending four hours at the restaurant. We are all joking and enjoying socializing out of the work environment. My manager whom I normally can’t stand I find amusing now, as she has let her guard down, and is drinking with us. I make a couple attempts to leave, as I am feeling particularly tired, but my co-workers keep insisting I stay and have another glass of wine. I protest, and they say, “c’mon sit down.” It is of course really easy to twist my arm, especially with the offering of alcohol, so each time I sit down rather quickly and pour myself another glass. In this social setting, in the conversation, the making of jokes, teasing each other, I forget about my problems.

Eventually I trudge my way home. And my gloom has descended back. Maybe after a goods night sleep I will wake up with clarity. What I really need, is some good porn to take my mind off my problems.