Wednesday, October 03, 2007

Bright Light Holiday Eve

I was angry which never helps.

I was angry and so I left point A to head to the Lonely Hearts Club. The Musician was in town and I wanted to hear him play. The world turned on end by a make believe holiday that even Koreans speculate is false. Vodka in my glass and the club full of hearts that do not seem very lonely.

I dont know anyone here.

I dont either. Says the barman as he continues to sling drinks. Its the young crowd, the new group just off the boat, out for fun, for pick ups, to squander their youth like I squandered mine. It makes me dislike them immensely immediately. I am becoming a curmudgeon I think.

The musician finally arrives and we talk for a space in the awkwardly loud space. Its not full yet but it will be soon. As midnight rolls around he gets up to play. Hes big in Japan, he croons, as he plays through the set.

You know why? he asks the crowd. He holds up a hand about chest high Because they are only this tall. I smile because it was clever, but the barflies either fail to get it or do not feel it has any potential for getting them laid so they ignore it and continue screaming. He plays on through his set but the kids around me just talk louder making it impossible to hear and sing along with words that I know all too well.

Gun, the bar angel, hits me on the shoulder. She is angry because I didnt see her and did not say hello. She sits and we talk but she is sad. Her face is pale porcelain under her straight dolls hair, and I look at her as she holds my hand and begins to cry. I pull her into my lap and comfort her. I know how she feels. Its not my place either.

She disappears into the crowd and the Musician has friends in the bar so I head back onto the streets at one a.m. Its not quite on a Tuesday night, it is full of frolic and revelry. I walk in the cool fall weather and feel outside of it all.

I wasnt angry, then, but it was less the ennui. I wasnt really sure.

Harsh neon lights up the skies of the city, with advertisements flickering in a strange foreign language. The streets steam and team with a thousand faces that all look the same at one a.m. in the artificial gloom. Im a shadow walking in the background and the mist and I am nothing.

No comments: