No
one likes a quitter
Story:
It was one of those lazy nights in the bar.
A weekend nevertheless, and my wife recruited me to ‘help out' and wash beer glasses.
After all, this
is a ‘festival’ town and you just never know when it’s going to be busy.
Service is paramount. Anyway, I have a pretty easy life, and for her to
ask, it’s important. Tonight started out with a bang and then
like so often, customers thinned out to head home.
I was leaning over, drenching the last of the bar glasses in a small
sink filled with soap solution. I
couldn’t help overhearing a conversation between a couple sitting in front of
me. Not because they were so loud or I was so close, it's because they
were both looking in my direction while they talked. Experience will show,
many couples, most likely bored with each other, try to suck someone else into their situation by
including the unsuspecting into their conversation by proxy; a ploy they no
doubt have used successfully many times
before. Their argument was a familiar one; a common one.
The beauty queen was puffing away on one of those long, white, scented cigarettes only
movie stars smoke. He was sipping
his highball and watching me over the rim of his glass.
Do you
smoke he asked? (still hiding behind the rim) I
paused a moment (I'll play for a little while, I thought) No, I said.
Did you ever? I answered yes,
for over 30 years. Why’d you quit?
(he was trying to set the hook), ‘My wife made me’
was my reply. (the beauty queen
jumped in) Oh, so she nagged you to death until you stopped! (turning sideways
and glaring at
daddy boy) Isn't that right?’ No, was my answer.
(it was his turn; praying I had more balls than he does and using a ploy
they've both practiced in hundreds of bars, on hundreds of nights)
What do you mean, he asked? I’d
rather not say; your wife seems to be really enjoying her cigarette, and my tale
is sad. He couldn't stand it; a chance to
take the heat of himself and appear kind. He jumps in again; this time
a
little more pushy, 'Come on, Come-on, tell us why you quit; you said it was your
wife's fault didn’t you?’ Yes, I
did, was the reply. (I take a long pause and
look down the bar as if to say, "the conversation is over". I
know if I don't look back at them, they'll fall off the barstools from lack of
air, they were holding their breath). The
beauty queen (thinking she's going to win this conversation by
proving all men are weak, can’t stand it) "I’ll put my cigarette out if you tell
us, p l e a s e!’
I glanced down the other end of the bar again, as I said, O.k.
It was easy to see this guy’s wife had been drinking for some time that
evening, and like many drinkers with problems, the couple was simply looking to
get into some kind of interaction to take their minds off of the problems they
had before they started drinking. Unfortunately,
too many couples who drink, end up starting arguments with someone else or
'verbally tag teaming' some poor fool who doesn't recognize their game and can't defend himself. They do this to alleviate the stress
from a relationship that should have ended years ago. Usually real life situations
sewn together with threads of beer and whiskey. If they sober up, the piece of work
sitting next to them holds a faint resemblance to someone they knew in a past
life, someone they once loved. Anyway,
too often, the 'someone
else' they want to include in their little game is a tired glass washer called in to 'help out' by his wife
on a slow night.
Their situation is
a common one; yet, if you don't pay attention, the quicksand will be up around
your knees before you know it. After letting them play out their drama for
over half an hour, I'd already surmised, this wasn't going to be one of the ‘easy ones’.
I was slowly getting ‘sucked in’ and didn’t like it, but I was
tired and 'let it happen'. After
all, the party was over, they knew it, and I was going to be their last stand.
I'll sacrifice twenty minutes, that's all. Besides, if their is a heaven
this might put me over the top. To get back....the princes just knew she was going to 'win' one that night, and he was going to let her at someone else's
expense, mine. His spineless plan, to keep her gloating until she passes out in bed.
Her goal, to prove all
men are the same, spineless dolts put on earth to be teased and eaten by shrikes.
Unfortunately, like most in their situation, she was lucky to have him and he
missed some classes on compassion. I'd already made up my mind;
their last drinks were sitting in
front of them. I
glanced at the head bar tender who was following the whole act, (he
smiled back) I had my conformation, their out of here when the ice
starts rattling! I smiled and turned to see his wife glaring at me with that ‘slap
me in the face’ smug look on her face; the corners of her lips curled just enough to let you know she was ready to laugh at you any time.
In her mind, men were never right, they were to be used and she
relished the fact. According to her
way of thinking,
men only wanted one thing; and she blamed us all for taking her 'good years'.
Time can be cruel; she sank her hooks into 'daddy boy' when she looked around the bar one
slow night and
realized the looks and
smiles she was accustomed to were gone, just memories. Like the drinkers who
left them sitting alone, her admirers had left the bar along time ago.
Daddy boy tried, but anyone with a dime knew she was the brains of that
family. Something she will never admit to herself is
that he doesn't care what she looks like, or what she says. He's a real simple guy, he
just needed a drinking buddy, that's all, no more. Expressionless, I looked her in
the eyes, and gave her the 'silence of the lambs' stare, she quieted right
down. Then I slowly steered my gaze towards him.
I asked, are you sure you have time for a sad tale? He was
quick to reply; (after all, someone else was getting the ‘I’ll suck the life
out of you’ gaze from his wife) ‘Yes,
yes, please continue.’ (She regained the
scattered morsels of her composure by gazing at the hanging antiques and
pouting.) O.K.
I said, while ignoring her as she proceeded to make a big deal about lighting
another cigarette and blowing the smoke my way.
(she must not have seen the movie) I continued, and started my sad tale. Looking
down as if to hide my feelings, I started: I was told years ago by doctors that if I didn’t stop smoking I would
die early. Like many people, I never
listened. In my eyes, the thought of a cold beer
without a cigarette was absurd. Then,
as luck would have it, a crazy thing happened; I fell in love with my wife.
It was then I knew if it wasn’t too late, I needed to quit.
I knew that if I kept smoking I would end up in a hospital room being fed
oxygen by tubes inserted in my lungs and nostrils. The most terrifying thing was
envisioning myself laying in that hospital bed
helpless. The prospect of that kind of death, scared
the hell out of me. The idea of
being fortunate enough to finally find the person of my dreams and ending up
spending the rest of my life in a hospital bed was too much. I
know my wife loves me very much. She
is very loyal. I know in my heart,
she would be working all night trying to make a living, pay the everyday bills, including
the exorbitant hospital bills. If that isn't bad enough, I know in my
heart, every extra second she wasn't working, she would be on the
side of my bed watching me die. She
would most likely cry herself to sleep as she lay her head down on the edge of
my hospital bed and fall asleep from shear exhaustion.
She would stay there all night until she had to go.
She would give me a kiss and say “I love you Charlie” just before leaving
for work the next morning. She would do this
every day. I wouldn't even be able to speak
to her! Even with uncontrollable tears
welling up in my eyes every night; she would always pretended she didn’t see them.
She will pretend every time she sees those tears, because she knows I love her so much and feel so terribly bad for putting
her through this ordeal when I could have prevented it, I would end it quickly
if I could. She knows I would kill myself
before putting her through this hell...
She knows me. If I had a gun
I would shoot myself before putting her through such a selfish agony another day!
(now glaring at his wife with my piercing eyes) I ask you, who the hell would do something like that on purpose to someone they
love? By now I was looking directly into her eyes.
Head back in defiance; she almost choked on her cigarette. Her
‘holier than thou’ composure drained out of her face.
(emboldened, I attacked again), who would force their life-long partner
to go through the horrific hell of watching their mate slowly die an agonizing
death when they could have
prevented it?" Given a choice, who
would do that? (daddy boy had one more gasp left in him) (lacking just
enough couth and trying to be smart) "gee,
thanks mister, I’m sorry I asked" as he turned to face her. She was
looking at me and smiling because she knew she had won; she had proved she was
sitting next to an idiot. She had proved her point, that her husband was
shit and he was the only one who didn't know it. 'Daddy boy' had missed
the whole point; as such, thought he had won the argument. (the stupid smile she sees every time he wins curling the
corners of his mouth) come on babe, it's time to go. He was happy he used
someone else to get back at the shrike. By now she was annihilating her cigarette
butt in the ash tray, firing daggers at me from her eyes, and in a last effort
to prove him wrong, (pissed as hell) ‘we’re out-a here!’ As they got up and turned
to leave, her husband glanced back over his shoulder and smiled at the tired
glass washer, called in to help, standing at the end of the bar; he smiled
because he knew in his heart, he always lets her win and he knew the tired glass
washer knew it too. He knew he was no genius,
but most nights he gives her what she needs, attention. I had twenty
minutes to give, and he needed it. I felt great that night. And,
as luck would have it, my beautiful wife was walking towards me with that great
smile. Just loud enough for the two
of them to hear, ‘there she comes my reason now, isn’t she beautiful?
That’s the woman who loves me. Not
knowing what had just occurred, the love of my life wished them a good
evening. If
you don’t quit, your going to miss that 'one more precious day' you could have shared
with each other.
All the best.
RJ