Monday September 24 2012

[i]

Waking up at 11:10 a.m.


A big mug of Coffee will suffice for breakfast.


All day shift at China Wok.


Only two orders in the past three hours and both were stiffs.


Prepping things at the restaurant.


It’s slow enough at work that I’m allotted a generous amount of time to stop by the house for lunch.

Grilled Cheese with Tomato. Potato Chip Trio. Honey Green Tea.


This could quite possibly be the dullest day at China Wok.


Reading The Bell Jar and winning at poker on my phone.


Sucking on Dum Dums.


While driving around I find myself in tune with days of yore...drowning my thoughts in a nostalgic river – thinking about my traveling adventures in romance and in friendships. I focus in on specific bars in my timeline over the past five years. Particular memories tug on my heartstrings.


It’s after 9 p.m. Still at work. I decide to chow down on dinner here.

Tofu with Broccoli, Snow Peas, Onions, and Rice in Garlic Sauce.


I arrive home. There’s social commotion in the house. Hooting and hollering. Anthony played a Chicho’s show earlier with Mike Gombas and invited people over.

...

Kevin’s bedroom door comes unhinged from rough housing.

...

A three-man talk between Mike Gombas, Darren, and I.

Darren: “I just don’t know what to do.”

He’s in a romantic debacle...some strange form of an existential crisis (nothing unusual), but for some reason it seems exceptionally overbearing for him tonight.

Like yesterday, I read aloud a Sylvia Plath quote (it seems relevant somewhat), “I didn’t want my picture taken because I was going to cry. I didn’t know why I was going to cry, but I knew that if anybody spoke to me or looked at me too closely the tears would fly out of my eyes and the sobs would fly out of my throat and I’d cry for a week. I could feel the tears brimming and sloshing in me like water in a glass that is unsteady and too full.

I add, “I think you just need a good cry, Darren.”

Darren: “That shit’s strange! I mean just think about it...how it overcomes you.” 

...

He stands there in the hallway with fiery red eyes (from drinking) and an unsmoked cigarette in hand venting about his life’s problems to Mike Gombas and I. It’s easy to laugh off his exaggerated personality but I know deep inside he really does have issues that he deals with on a regular basis. And underneath all the casual camaraderie lies a tormented soul. Darren Warrington.


The house simmers down. I clean up here and there.


Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

Watching Tears of the Sun (2003).


Sleep at 3:30 a.m.


[i] Diamond rock. Source unknown.

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