Blurring Fiction With Reality (2) When I left the office I felt a wild array of emotions. I felt guilty but happy, sad but free. I wondered how long I could last on the couple of thousand dollars left in my bank. I wanted to do nothing for as long as I could but I knew I would have to do something in order to live. I slipped out without anyone noticing and when I got outside and into my car I just sat. I thought of the worst repercussions and what would happen when they realised that I was never coming back. But why should I feel so bad. Things were a fucking joke in that office. Full of yes men and people afraid to challenge anything at all. Everyone would mumble under their breath how pathetic and weak things were but nothing ever got done about it! For months I was stuck in that groove and in the end every little thing pissed me off. It came down to the fact that I didn’t like the person I had become. I still don’t even know what our office did or what I was pushing papers for. Mundane unimportant stuff is the only explanation I have for it and it drove me insane. I started the car before I could change my mind and drove home in a daze. Some sort of euphoric trance had taken control of me. To tell you the truth I don’t really remember it that well. If I’d had a crash on the way home I wouldn’t even have noticed I was dying. What I do remember is sitting at my kitchen table with a glass of milk staring at nothing, like I was afraid to acknowledge what I had done. It’s not exactly the feeling you’d expect from liberating yourself and breaking free of your responsibility. I panicked slightly by calling the phone company to change my home phone number so I couldn’t be found, and raced around quickly packing a few things in preparation to get away the next day. I was only home for almost an hour before my mobile phone rang sending a shock wave through my body. Even though my head said to run and lock myself away my legs took me slowly step by step towards the piercing noise. As I focused in on the caller I.D my heart stopped racing and relief ran down my body when I realised that it was Ethan and not my boss. “Hey Seth, what’s happenin’?” “Not too much” “You at work?” “Nah I quit” “What?” “I just walked out, didn’t say anything to anyone” He let out a surprised grunt of some sort. “You serious? I knew you weren’t too happy but……. what are you going to do now?” “I’m really not thinking about that just yet. All I know is, working there contradicted what I stand for. You know me, I need to be making more of an impact on the world, or my world for starters” “No worries man, I think I know where you’re coming from” Of course he did. He always can. We are like kindred spirits sometimes. Both of us like to go against the grain and make people sit up and take notice. Neither of us want to leave this place and be forgotten. However just knowing where I’m coming from doesn’t necessarily help. We left it at that for the moment. I think both of us were a little apprehensive to go into the ins and out’s. “Well, the boys are coming to Dimensions tonight, I’m putting their names on the door, you in?” “Yeah I guess, I could do with a drink” “Sweet, I’ll let them know you’re keen and I’ll get them to swing by your’s on the way” “Cheers, later” Having a bartender friend like Ethan can be a pretty cool thing. Free entry, free drinks. Need I say more? The “boys” are Brodie, Owen and Jam. Back in high school we used to be a close knit six including Ethan, Moth and myself. There’s a slight split down the middle of the group now with Brodie and Owen still a little bit stuck in the high school mentality but Jam is a really cool guy. Ethan and I became fairly close after Moth’s accident in a similar way to Taylor and myself, in that it brought us closer, that’s the way it stayed. Anyway at about nine o’ clock they were at my door and ready to go, albeit a little out of it already. I only live about ten minutes walk from Dimensions and so the boys left the car parked out the front of my house. That ten minutes gives us just enough time to force a couple of beers or whatever down our throats. There’ve been a lot of sickly walks between my house and Dimensions over the years. Along the way I let them in on the day’s events and tried to justify my actions. Jam was the most concerned and worried but he wasn’t too vocal about it, similar to Ethan in a way. We have that understanding where nothing needs to be said. Owen and Brodie were much more nonchalant, or maybe drunk is the word. Anyway the subject changed after an eerie silence and before we knew it we were walking into Dimensions. The nightclub itself is located in the midst of an entertainment complex/district with five other nightclubs, a bowling alley, pool hall, fifties drive in/diner with waitresses on roller skates, water slides (mainly in summer), two video game arcades and an elaborate mini golf course. So basically the whole thing is a first date paradise. Thursdays are the biggest nights of the week at Dimension’s even more so than Saturdays. If you’re looking to go out on the weekend then Chrome is the place to go for the most fun. It’s so sad that I know this. I go to these places because I want to and I can be lost for a few hours but the sheep go there because that’s what sheep do. It spoils my fun and puts doubt in my mind. But fuck it, I shouldn’t feel like shit because the target-market follow me. Besides they are just extras in the background filling out the space for the truly important characters to take centre stage. Individual: Single, particular, special, opp to general; having distinct character Even though small minds frequent Dimensions you still have your minority groups which tend to have a good time upstairs in their own private sanctuary. If you’re into labels then Surfers, Gothic’s, rockers, bisexuals, lesbians and artsy people are common place on the second level. I’m not sure I fit into any of these categories, which is how I like it. I do my thing the people do theirs. Down stairs is a mix of people but its mainly commercially warped, top forty listening, Britney Spears following, Backstreet Boys idolising, sad, no life people who crowd the dance floor. However the club is certainly true to its name as far as the clientele it attracts. As you walk up the stairs there are two bars on the right and left. Towards the back are tables and couches but if you turn at the top of the steps and double back around the rail you come to a balcony that overlooks the huge dance floor surrounded by four more bars on each side. Mirrors are everywhere you turn, creating the illusion that there’s no way out. It all works pretty well especially when the coloured lasers and beams of light reflect off the mirrors to throw you into a psychedelic wonderland. We had no problem getting in as Ethan had put our names on the door like he said he would. The four of us went straight upstairs and found a good place on the balcony to stand. Once we were settled the drinks started rolling in and the conversation became more and more slurred. “Dick Head!” It was Ethan. “Dip Shit!” “Ladies, what’s shakin?” “Not much, now run along and bring us a round of tequila slammers my good man” “Bitch” I was feeling particularly obnoxious but it was all in good fun and Ethan relishes these moments. He was always drinking on the job and so it wasn’t surprising that he came back to us with not four but five tequilas. Each of us threw them down with wrinkled faces and shaking heads. Gradually I started to mingle as the numbness and blurred vision set in. I got into one of those really deep conversations with a lesbian from Brazil about life and who does what to whom in an all girl relationship. Truly eye opening and not nearly as exciting as I thought it would be. I think she took exception when I asked that seeing she was so into girls does that mean she likes to stare at herself in the mirror all the time?. People take themselves way too seriously. We need to let go every now and then. A few tequila shots later I was feeling extremely loose and relaxed. Ethan was on a break and joined the rest of us down stairs to shake our “groove thing”. We messed around and were dancing like we had no idea but as the DJ changed the pace to some hard dance music I went into my own world and let myself get taken away with the music and that unmistakable alcohol adrenalins. All I could hear was an endless beat as the lights flashed and the laser’s shot past me. For that moment I can honestly say that I felt totally free. I must have been out there like that for an hour without stopping. It all felt like five minutes. I didn’t even notice Ethan had gone back to work and that Jam was the only one with me. Back upstairs Owen and Brodie were waiting for us so we could leave. Typical. Just as we were about to go I made eye contact with a girl standing across the bar. I looked away for few seconds then looked back. Her eyes hadn’t moved until she was interrupted. “Sorry lads, I’m hanging around” Jam was the only one really paying attention. “Alright, whatever, we’ll talk to you soon” “Okay, seeya” It was only twelve thirty so I still had plenty of time to find out who this girl was. “Ethan!” “What?” “Come here, help me out. You see that brunette over there?” “Yeah, the one wearing the glasses with yellow lenses?” “Yeah. I need you to get her a vodka drink or some sort, I don’t care what exactly, give it to her and say it’s from me” “Dude, that’s lame” “Yeah… but it’s a talking point right?” Ethan begrudgingly walked over while I watched intensely as he did his thing and leaned across the bar, whispering in her ear and pointing at me. I tried to look casual as if it was no big deal. She seemed to like whatever it was he gave her but in a split second she was gone. I couldn’t see her anywhere. At the same time I wasn’t trying too hard because I didn’t want it to look like I was trying to find her. Out of nowhere I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around to see this sexy but conservative girl softly sipping her drink through a straw and looking at me with and admiring hazel eyed squint. “Hey, you Seth?” “Yep” I couldn’t think of anything else to say. “Thanks for the drink” “No worries, I’ve never done anything like that before, so I’m surprised you came and talked to me” “You probably tell every girl the same thing, don’t you?” “Maybe” “I’m Hailey by the way” And so it began. Hailey was wearing a red short sleeve midriff top with yellow trim and tight dark blue flares. Long straight brown hair and a belly button ring topped it off. Its fair to say that it was without doubt a “moment” of complete innocence. We spent the rest of the night talking openly and really connecting. This girl could get it. I don’t often find people who understand what I’m trying to convey so it was refreshing. I felt confident. “We should hang out sometime” “I could be into that” “Sounds good. Well I’ve got to go now so maybe I’ll just grab your number and give you a call on the weekend or early next week?” She gave me a wry smile and that slight look as if to say “you’ve done this before” and took my phone out of my hand so she could enter the number. “Thanks, I’ll talk to you soon” “I hope so” That was it. I walked outside with a sense of pride like the night was a job well done. It had served its purpose. As I started to walk down the street, reality set in. I began to sober up and ultimately the alcohol come down was beginning to hit in a big way. Contemplation and wild thoughts had found their way back to my head. “What the hell do I do now?” circulated repeatedly. I was starting to talk out loud and getting angry with myself. “Don’t keep fucking with me. I’m fine, stop trying to corrupt me. I’ve had a good night so don’t bring me back down you bastard” I felt cold and sick so I went into my favourite midnight snack place. I like to go there on my own to think and get away or just relax after a night out. It’s only about two hundred metres from Dimensions and they make the best subs. It’s called The Sandwich Place, pretty simple. I’ve become a bit of a regular and more often than not they have a pot of English breakfast tea waiting for me. For some reason drinking tea makes me feel cultured. Anyway, I walked in, said hello to whoever it was working, paid for my tea and sat down in a booth next to the window. It really helped to calm me down after my little stress. Sometimes I like to observe and watch what’s happening around me. You can see some pretty interesting things by just looking. A few people came and went or walked by outside. One or two talked to me for five minutes or so why they were deciding to go home or stay out. Nothing too exciting. But there were a few situation’s which caught my eye. Diagonally opposite and about four tables over were a guy and a girl. They weren’t saying anything, just sitting. The guy looked fairly drunk and pissed off, but through the masculine act I could see his guilt. The girl looked as though she had been crying and frustration was all over her body language. She tried to hide her face and every time her boyfriend, or who I assume was her boyfriend tried to talk to her she ignored him. Eventually she laid her head on the back of the seat and stared at the ceiling. They both looked extremely drained from a huge argument they must have had. Without warning the girl took flight and quickly left the building and leapt straight into a waiting taxi. Her boyfriend only just managed to get half in the car door before the driver took off at the instructions of his demanding female passenger. Then they were gone. My attention then focused on another guy sitting on his own while his friends were ordering something to eat. He looked like he had been in a fight. Blood drops speckled his t-shirt and his face looked swollen. I couldn’t see exactly where the blood came from but he seemed to be favouring his ribs. Clearly he had been involved in something big. I wondered where the other half of the scuffle had gone. Come to think of it I did hear siren’s that night which could have a lot to do with it. Faintly I could hear his friends mumbling something about a girl I think. It was a really weird situation because this guy looked unbelievably familiar. As he picked himself up and walked out the door with his “posse” I could see that here was a young guy like me whose life had now changed forever thanks to a few minutes of chaos. My instincts told me that I’d be seeing him again sometime, and my gut feeling never lies. It was a hard sense to shake and it got worse with what I saw next. A young, possibly around eighteen year old girl walked in looking very distraught and upset. Shirt ripped, hair frayed, mascara running from tear after tear. She sat in a booth, put her knees up to her chest and hugged herself, slightly swaying. It was sorry and scary to watch. I could assume what had happened but what made it worse was the fear of the unknown. Transfixed, I felt frozen by the emotional out pour from this poor girl. That sick, dirty feeling crept over me when I realised that this could be the girl I overheard being mentioned two seconds ago. What if she was the other half of the fight? and if so what did he do to her?. Now I felt really sick. I couldn’t see any blood on her though which was one sign of comfort. Four girls, concerned and hysterical, burst through the door and tried to console their friend. Tears were shed, words exchanged, hugs all round but still she looked totally confused. I tried to listen in but all I overheard was that her name was Kelly. I really felt sorry for her and I wanted to show compassion but knew it was not my place. The wall of support was not enough to contain the erratic mixture inside Kelly’s head as a result of the psychological hell she must have been going through. Everyone looking on at that time watched with voyeuristic intensity as she broke away and ran outside across the road and into the darkness of the parklands. As her friends disappeared with her, what was left of my good mood was finally swept away with contempt. I felt angry. “Too often we get carried away with our perceptions” I could see my reflection in the bottom of the mug as I sipped the last drop of tea. “I’m not supposed to be feeling like this”, I kept saying to myself quietly. In walked a group of inebriated guys laughing and cursing the very same scene I had witnessed. They passed it off as attention seeking melodrama and over reaction. No respect, I despise feeble minds like theirs. I could see the clerk serving them was trying to hurry their order. It’s strange how it happens. Sometimes I get this feeling, an urge to do something violent and destructive. Simple things like kick the table I might be sitting at or throw a chair through the window. This was one of those moments. In my mind I could see myself slowly walking past, my gaze digging an ever deepening hole and scalding their faces with hot tea. But alas, I had consumed it all. I snapped out of it when I realised they had noticed my staring and I saw my own insane reflection in the window. Eventually I forced myself up and returned my mug. The group of drunks dispersed slightly as I walked through and past the “leader”. I stared him straight in the eyes as he cowered. By now I’d had enough, I felt tired and drained from my own mind, and my bed was looking unbelievably enticing. Peacefully I walked home and found solace in the dark night sky.
Copyright © 2002 Tim Baker |