No more parties

    After the tenth glass of vodka tonic, everything still looked the same. The place wasn’t nicer or more fun just because of that and the people in it just looked like normal people, just guys flocking around a compressed space, looking to have sexual intercourse with other men. That was the reality Ronald had chosen for himself that night and he had chosen that same reality some other times, when he felt especially horny but also very lonely. One of those parties usually cheered him up.

 However, that one had all the indications of a dud. He had been there for a whole hour and it had felt like four times that or even more. That was never a good indication of how much a place was fun or a party was entertaining. That’s why he started asking for those vodka tonics from the moment he arrived. The guy at the booze table wouldn’t even take a good look at him, he would just pour the liquids fast and try to keep the line moving or maybe he was making room for someone special.

 As for Ronnie, he did try to check out some of the other guys but they didn’t seem to care for his presence at all. Actually, some of them just seemed to not even acknowledge his existence. However, that was better than what others did: look at him straight in the eye, with the same expression they would use when glancing at a bag of decomposing garbage. They looked at his black socks, all the way up to his messy hair, and just made that ugly look that said more than a group of worse and even more than a good assortment of insults.

 He saw that look many times that night; even after he had been sitting down watching some guys play a dancing game. It looked fun and he would have liked to participate, but to his surprise, there were many guys coming in such a party in large groups. The four guys playing the dancing game seemed very friendly with one another, probably friends from college or something of the sort. So he kept to himself by the wall, downing his vodka, hoping the alcohol would help him have a bit of fun.

 Well, he never got drunk. After several glasses, he felt exactly the same way. He even went down to the rooms, the one’s with all the action. But there was nothing for him there. They were all filled to the top with men that would make a swimsuit model blush and cry. He tried to get into it but no one even wanted to touch him by accident. So he went back to the booze table and asked for one last glass of vodka tonic. He downed it slowly, watching people still getting in. Once he ran out of alcohol, he walked right to the entrance and asked for his things back. Leaving made sense.

 The guy tending to the reception seemed to be too important, as he ignored Ronald for a while. When he finally decided to pay attention to him, Ronald basically ripped the bag from his hands. He didn’t even looked at his face, not wanting to have anything else to do with that place. In a matter of moments, Ronald dressed up and ran down to the entrance of the building. He was about to call a taxi but he finally decided not to do that, as he felt he needed some time to think and walking seemed like a nice idea.

 That was probably the alcohol thinking because the area was not the safest one in the city. It wasn’t a pit of despair either, but let’s just say that people didn’t really walked around there at night just to be safe. Ronald didn’t mind, as he knew he was a fast walker and that was always important in cases one could be mugged. So he just closed up his jacket real good, checked he had everything with him and then he just walked out into the cold of the night. He could hear the music from the upstairs.

 In minutes, he was away from all of that. He was away from those bodies that had claimed the throne over anyone else, those bodies that had rendered everyone else useless and undeserving. He had all the images still in his head but he wanted to stop feeling like such a piece of trash. It was hard because being rejected like that, in such a blatant way, was always very hard on him. It wasn’t his first time in that rodeo and it certainly wasn’t something he was keen on repeating over and over in his life.

 He passed a small grocery store that, in order to sell beer and cigarettes to young people like him was still open so late at night. He laughed to himself, because it wasn’t really that late. He had stayed in the party for about two hours, between the moment he had entered to the moment he had left. And the party could last up to ten hours. So it was kind of fun. He decided to enter the grocery store and buy some chewing gum to mask his horrible vodka breath and to buy something to eat.

 When he got to the register, he paid for a pack of mint gum, two bags of chips (one lemon flavored and the other chicken flavored), a bottle of ice tea and chocolate bar in case he felt too cold. He got everything in one of those very cheap plastic bags and continued on his walk, heading home but not really having any rush to get anywhere. He wanted to eat his chips and just think, think about why it got to him so bad. Think about why he had let them get to him and his brain. Yeah, he was an average guy but somehow that had became something similar to a heresy or sometimes even worse.

 The hypocrites. Those were the worst. The ones that always praise you for being such an authentic and real guy and then just side with the new gods because it suits them best. Those fuckers don’t deserve to be paid attention by anyone; they would sell their mothers if it meant they could get to play with those they admire. It’s sad and pathetic and frankly extremely annoying, and that’s what made Ron leave the damn party and just have a nice walk home, however long it could take him.

 He was glad to see some street dogs wandering around. Some of them accompanied him for a big part of his walk, until they were apparently lured to the other side of a street by the smell of food. Actually, the smell of fried food also opened up Ronald’s appetite. The bags of chips and the ice tea had already been consumed and he was still very hungry. He knew he had some leftovers at home that his mother had kept for him, so he could already picture them on a plate, warm and cozy and he ate all of it.

 Walking faster was not really a possibility because the distance was quite big. He could get home but it would take time and getting tired before reaching the middle of the route would not be the smartest thing to do. So he just kept on walking, looking around for muggers or worse, and forgetting very slowly what had happened to him at the party. He would think about it from time to time, but he would actively decide to think about something else, because torture himself didn’t make any sense.

 It took him two hours to get home. His feet were destroyed when he opened the door carefully, in order not to make noise. He thought about eating the food but decided he was more tired than hungry. Besides, he could eat it all in the morning, as breakfast. He took off his shoes and entered his room slowly. He removed all of his clothes and then just entered the bed, which was very cold but kind of cozy anyway. He thought one last time about those men and their bodies and in a hush voice he just said, “Fuck them”.

 The day after, Ronald had a very fun family day with his parents. It wasn’t that they made something special but rather that he realized that there were things that he needed at one moment of his life and there were other things he liked to do or have when he was recuperating from a very annoying event.

 He quickly forgot about the party, the booze, the men in it and even the music. The fact that he decided to block all of that from his life had something to do with it. He just wanted to be happy and those parties were not being fun anymore. They had run their course in his life and now he needed to move on.

Our young past

   Like a waterfall, all the books on the shelf in the closet came running down towards. One of them hit me on the foot, but it was a small one, so the pain was not that bad. However, the incident reminded that stuff had been stored around the house for years and years. There were so many shelves and drawers and hidden little closets and tiny spaces to keep things, and we had all used them ever since I had lived there as a young boy. I even remember my mother telling me where and how to store everything.

The book that had hit my foot was one that I had read a lot when I was young: 1984 by George Orwell. I remember being fascinated by the world building this master of writing had achieved. I really felt there, with all the characters, enduring their hardships and helping them survive somehow. Of course, the book was maybe too dark for me as a young man, but it was one of those building blocks of my personality. I think everyone should be obliged to read such a masterpiece.

 I decided to grab all the books and put those I wanted to keep in a box. Of course, 1984 would go there but there were many others that I hadn’t seen for decades and now I had to decide whether to throw them away or not. The first thing I decided on was to put all my former schoolbooks and notebooks on trash bags. I had no use for that. School had been kind of a nightmare at the end, so it made no sense keeping something that reminded me of any bad moments in my life.

 Some people keep those kinds of books as souvenirs, even to help their children in the future with their homework, but I’m more of a realist. I will never have any children and even if I did, I wouldn’t put them through the trauma and boredom of watching how lousy I was at school when I was young. I’d rather help them with current knowledge and not by reminiscing about things that no one longer cares about. So I put the about ten books and seven notebooks in trash bags.

 I did the same thing with notebooks from college. I had already studied enough and keeping them would only occupy space for other books that I would like to keep. For example, I had a small but very well preserved collection of graphic novels that I had binged through during my college years. They had been great entertainment when I wanted to relax for a while and not be so dependent on internet or anything associated with it. They were a great source of a imagination and certainly helped me build my own creativity during those years. I loved them too much to part with them.

 The remaining books where old and had belonged to my parents. So it wasn’t my choice to put them away or throw them away. I had to ask before doing anything. So I put all of those in a different box and clean the whole space with care. I put on a mask on my mouth, as the amount of dust was just incredible. It took me a long while to properly clean the closet, every single corner and space, before leaving for my former bedroom and start doing the same thing there. It seemed like a job that wouldn’t end.

 But, in time, it did. Every single thing that I wanted to keep was in boxes that would be sent to my place. Some other things would be sent to mu parents home, where they could decided if they wanted to keep all that or if they want to throw something. Knowing them, a visit to their place would be necessary because parents are all the same, they have difficulty trying to part with anything that reminds them of something you did when you were young or that reminds them of a tiny thing they did year ago.

 It’s their choice anyway. I carried all the trash bags to the containers and said my final goodbyes. After all, many of those books and toys and so many other things had been there through my younger years. Years that had been difficult at some points and joyful at others. It is weird, but as humans we do tend to give this human quality to everything that is not alive. We care for our things as if they knew we cared for them and it goes beyond of trying to preserve them as long as possible. It’s a weird kind of love.

 Driving back home, with two boxes filled with my past, my eyes started to fill up and I had to take advantage of a red light in order to clean my eyes with a tissue and just try to compose myself. Cleaning the house in which I had lived for so long had been a very unexpected experience. It’s one of those things you don’t really think much about but, once you’re there doing the job, you realized that it’s not as simple as it looks. It’s difficult to stare at your past and just see it all in front of you, kind of like a movie.

 I was grateful to get home and put the boxes on the elevator. A young woman I had never seen on the building helped me hold the button for me, as I pushed the boxes into the steel container. She got down first. She seemed very nice and that made me realize I really had no idea who my neighbors were, except for the lady that lived next door who loved to sing opera at the top of her lungs every single afternoon. I guess she thought it would be less annoying at that time of day. Maybe she had been a famous opera singer or had failed to reach her life dream. Who knows?

 I pushed the boxes all the way from the elevator to my doorstep. I was about to pull the keys out of my coat, when the door flung open and he stood there, smiling. Apparently, he had heard me coming from the elevator and had waited patiently to open the door. He grabbed one box and I took the other. We put them by the sofa and hen just fell on the furniture. I was exhausted and he seemed to be tired too. He had gone out with friends to hike some mountain or something like that. A sportsman, he was.

 We lay there for a while, slowly embracing each other, in silence. Then, the afternoon came and we realized we had fallen asleep for a short while. I woke up because my stomach was hurting. I had been working on the house all day and had not eaten a single thing. He proposed we should order takeout but I reminded him we had no money to spare for that. So I decided to stand up and cook something fast. Pasta came to mind, so I just started cooking right away, not even listening to what he was saying.

 He apparently grew tired of not getting real answers, because he then turned to the boxes and opened them. He grabbed some things, looked at my toys and browsed some of the old magazines I had wanted to save from the dumpster. He laughed when he saw my old video games, as he had never known I had played videogames when younger. It’s weird but we had never really talked about our childhood personas. Our younger self sometimes feels like a whole different person, away from us.

 I saw 1984 in his hands, just as I chopped some tomatoes for the sauce. I waited to hear if he had something to say about it, if he had any input about me owning such a book. He didn’t say a word for a while. He appeared to be checking the state of the book and some of the pages. But he wasn’t saying anything. For a moment, I asked myself what kind of couple lives together for almost a year and they don’t even share their tastes to one another. It made me feel like a failure, so much so that I almost cut off a finger.

 Then, he started reciting. He just opened the book on a random page, the one where Winston talks about Julia, and how he sees her and how he feels. The way he read it was just delightful and, as the water boiled and I put the pasta in, I smiled hearing his voice reading my favorite book ever.

 He only stopped when started serving. The food looked amazing and I think his reading inspired me. He left the book on the coffee table and, before sitting down to eat, he kissed me softly and I gently grabbed him by the waist. It felt different somehow. But different good. We smiled and ate, while talking.

Lemonade

   Every single person that knew me wondered why I had chosen such a name for my dog. I always told them I didn’t really choose the name. Instead, he had been the one to choose it. I remember very well. I had been walking for a long time and was really hungry but didn’t know my surroundings at all. I had been living in that city for almost a year but the part of town I was in was not very well known to me. To be honest, it wasn’t one of those popular tourist destinations. It was one of those places people go very randomly or that locals know but no one else. I considered myself more of a local back then.

 I was lost and hungry and started to wander the streets trying to look for anything in order to calm my stomach. I found a closed supermarket and a closed restaurant and then I realized I had become lost in the worst day possible for the place I was in: Sunday. Nothing opened on Sunday, nothing at all. Maybe a couple of little supermarkets down in the tourist area but in that neighborhood I had so stupidly stepped in, there was nothing at all on such a day.

 How did I forget that? I have no idea. But the truth was I grew more and more desperate as the minutes passed. To make things worse, the clouds in the sky were staring to move and the sun, shiny and big as it looked, started to shine strongly above me. The temperature rose steadily until I had to walk back to a park I had seen before in order to sit down on a park bench beneath a tree, where I could at least try to make a plan or think of something to do in that case.

 It was then when I met him. He just came up to me out of nowhere and I swear I never saw anyone around us in that moment. He was a very short dog, the kind that had a lot of fur and tiny legs and paws and also a very small head. His fur was a combination of orange and white and I could easily notice he hadn’t been bathed in quite a while. He just sidled up to me and sat on the floor, also avoiding the sunlight.

 At first, I didn’t much for him. He was just a dog in a park, nothing too uncommon up to that point. It was when I stood up and walked to were I thought I had seen a metro station when things got really interesting. I did find the station and, luckily, I had one last trip in my metro card. It would help me go back home and eat around there or something.

 It wasn’t until I was inside the train and sat down (not many people on Sunday), that I noticed the dog had followed me and sat just below the seats in front of me, as a way for me to notice him. I realized that from the first moment I saw him there, putting his small him on his paws, waiting for the train to arrive to its destination. 

 After thirty minutes, I was back where I knew where everything was and where I could trust I could find some nice food. I was so eager to eat that, again, I forgot about the dog. I climbed the stairs to the street as fast as I could and started looking around me as if I was hunting some rare type of animal.

 Sure enough, I found a place were they did a very attractive fried chicken with French fries. It was perfect for my hunger, as my belly growled more and more loudly. Even people around me in the train could hear it complain. It was very embarrassing and I didn’t acknowledge any of it, instead playing the “I have no idea what’s happening” card.  I sat on a table in front of the restaurant and asked for a lemonade to have with my beverage, as I was really thirsty too.

 As I waited for my chicken, I noticed that part of town was as dead as the rest of it. There were a couple of business open but the amount of people in them was very sad. People were apparently very tied to their traditions and refused to change them for nothing, even if it could benefit them somehow. I could never get used to that as those are not my traditions but I think it’s interesting how people are sometimes. They keep amazing me.

 The other creature that amazed me was that damn dog from the park. As I was wondering about people of that city, I noticed something was under the other chair by the table. As I looked down, I saw it lying down exactly as I had done in the train. Just then, the waiter came with my lemonade and my lunch/dinner. I was so hungry I forgot about the dog in two seconds, digging in mercilessly.

 When I was halfway through my meal, I realized the dog had crawled out of under the chair and had decided to sit down by me watching me eat. Clearly it was the sign that meant, “Feed me”. At first, I really thought I wouldn’t give him a single piece of chicken. Not only because I was very hungry but also because the dog’s insistence on following me was very bothering. Besides, there was also the fact that I had no idea who the owner of the animal was and if it was a good thing for me to give him some chicken.

 Finally, I decided to give him a little piece of chicken. I threw it just in front of him but, to my surprise, that damn dog didn’t seem to care for chicken. I did the same thing with half a French fry and nothing; he just didn’t seem to care about any of it. Then why was he following me and staring at me as I ate? What the hell was wrong with him?

 Suddenly, the creature did something I wasn’t expected and that confused me even further: it got up on its to back legs and put the other two on my thigh, looking at me with his small black eyes. I was absolutely confused. He was begging or apparently that was the case but I had already given him food and he didn’t care for that. So what did he want it?

 I decided to keep eating my meal. I would finish it and just go home. I had no time or desire to be guessing a dog’s needs or wishes. I had never really had a pet at home, except the rabbit that had died five days after my father had brought it for my sibling and me. Besides that, my relationship with animals had been very rare. Maybe when I visited my friends who had dogs or cats, that was really my only interaction with other species. Besides that, nothing.

 The dog did the thigh thing a couple times more but I didn’t even acknowledge it. I finished the chicken, which was delicious, and ate the last couple of fries with some mustard, which was my favorite. I called the waiter in order to ask for the check and I just exhaled in a very content manner as I had fulfilled my wish for the afternoon. Thankfully, the sun was beginning to be covered by clouds again so I did not have to worry about sweating all the way home.

 When I reached for my glass of lemonade to finish it, the dog went crazy. Not inly he touched my thigh again, he started jumping up and down as if he was doing some kind of show. I took a look around me and realized there was no one else watching besides me, no one to testify to how crazy that damn dog was.

 It took me a while to realize that the key to his response had been the lemonade. So, feeling curious, I poured some of it in small saucer that the waiter had left on the next table and just put it in front of the dog. Sure enough, the little creature drank the lemonade in a couple of seconds. I was so entertained by watching him drink such a thing, that I poured twice more, give him the last of my beverage.

After I paid, I thought the dog would stay there but, for some reason, he kept following me.  I had no idea why I did it but I let it happen. I didn’t try to scare him of or anything and when we got to my building, I let him pass inside.

 He has been living with me for a year now. His name is Lemonade. And I have to say he’s one funny dog. Not only because of how I met him but because he seems to know things I haven’t even realized yet. Somehow, he’s more human than you, me and all others.

Natalia on a date

   Natalia was trying to listen to every single word that came out of Robert’s mouth. But it was impossible. He talked so fast, so much; that she didn’t even had time to process any of what he had said. The fun thing was that he had just arrived to the restaurant, after she had been waiting for him for about twenty minutes. He hadn’t said “Sorry”, or anything like that. He had just laughed at some stupid thing he had said and started talking and talking like a mad man.

 The restaurant was a very nice place for a date between two people that loved each other. Many couples were sharing some time around them. But as Natalia noticed, all of them were having a much better time than her. Even those who were by themselves, with friends or family, seemed to be having much more of a good time than her. She only looked around and put on butter on those tiny breads they give you before properly beginning dinner. She realized, after several minutes, that she had already eaten about five of ten, after having filled every single one of them with butter. She was supposed to be on a diet, but the hell with that.

 Finally, the waiter was bold enough to speak and Robert had to shut up for the first time in a while. Natalia took this precious moment to stand up, stretch her legs and go to the bathroom. He asked if he could order for the both of them and she said yes, anything to have a couple of minutes away from him. Walking slowly to the bathroom, she reminded herself never to date relatives of their friends again. Robert was a cousin of her best friend Laura and had nothing to do with her. Laura was a funny gal, full of life and color. Robert was just full of life but because he wouldn’t shut his mouth.

 In the bathroom, she washed her face to be a little more awake, and then she applied a new layer of makeup and also peed for much too long. She loved to count something that took long when she was in there, like how many Pokémon she knew or how many colors she could name. Sometimes she would get so caught up in her own game that she would pull out a small notebook out of her purse and start write the names down. Natalia was not really and obsessed person but she was distracted easily and preferred rapid, intelligent exchanges than long and tiring conversations.

 After what felt like forever but ended up to be something like twenty minutes, she went back to the table where the waiter was putting down their food. Apparently Robert thought she loved salad because she could only see green leaves on her plate. As she sat down, she reminded herself that if she didn’t have any meat, she would have to call to the burger place she loved by her house and order the one with the double patty. She was really hungry and that salad wasn0t going to do the trick.

 Moroccan. That’s what he said the salad was. It was on a big plate and had a number of things in it but she didn’t really care. She had already decided on her burger and was already looking forward to it.

 Again, Robert started talking and talking and she began counting Pokémon on her mind again and then trying to remember what she had to buy in the supermarket the next day. She had promised her mother to invite her home for lunch and she had to do something nice. Maybe pasta was the best choice but it seemed so simple, or maybe some kind of steak. But if she ate steak, she couldn’t really eat a burger the night before, it would be too much and, after all, she could only break her diet once. Well, she could exercise more and not do any diet. She wasn’t that fat. Natalia thought she had a nice body, curvy but not like a porn star or anything like that. Just good enough for any use. She laughed at her own joke.

 Robert smiled. She looked at him and smiled kindly, not knowing what he had been saying. Thankfully, he broadened his smile and just told him he loved her laughter and how she listened so attentively to every little thing he said. He told her she was the most beautiful girl he had met and that he would be honored if she could date him again. Natalia’s smile turned into coughing. At first, even she thought it was because she had no intention of answering that question. But then, she touched her neck and knew something was wrong.

 She felt she was drowning, as if some unknown force was choking her. Then she saw her fingers and they were getting swollen. Robert called the waiter and asked for an ambulance. Natalia didn’t want that, but as she couldn’t even breathe, it was not really a time to refuse any kind of help. The paramedics arrived some moments later and they immediately gave her a shot, something to counter the allergy of whatever it was that she had suffered. The paramedics decided it was best for her to go to the hospital and spend at least one night there, under surveillance.

 It all happened so fast, even Robert had no words. He just grabbed her purse and gave the waiter some bills to pay up the meal. He was scared, livid, as he jumped into the ambulance that rushed through the city’s crowded streets. Natalia seemed to be getting sleepy in the ambulance and she couldn’t really hear or say anything. The paramedics gave her another shot and started asking questions but she couldn’t heat them. For some reason, she only wanted Robert to take her hand, to feel someone was with her in that trying moment, to feel some friend was taking care of her. But Robert didn’t do anything. Just as she closed her eyes, Robert turned his body towards the back doors of the ambulance.

 Natalia woke up early the next morning. Her nurse, a very nice young woman, told her that she had had an allergic reaction to something she had eaten. Natalia smiled and the girl looked confused. She explained to her all about Robert and how he talked like mad and how she didn’t even know what she was eating. The nurse understood, with that face that means “Men!” and told Natalia that they would check what the ingredients of the salad were but that it would help if she made them a list with all of her allergies. But she only knew about her allergy to cat hair and she doubted that was one of the ingredients.

 The doctor that walked in laughed and Natalia was thrilled he did because he was very handsome and his teeth were all so perfect and white. She had the best time talking to him; about what had happened the night before and about what she had been through overnight. He was a very nice person and explained to hear that they wanted her in for one more night to check everything was good and to identify her allergy. He also told her that her mother was there and that she had brought all the paperwork from her insurance and all that annoying stuff one has to do to get sick.

 Natalia laughed and that was how the doctor decided to leave, on a high note. Her mother would come some time afterwards. She was really good friends with her and explained the situation at dinner with Robert. Her mother understood exactly what she was saying and advised her never to allow that to happen again. She said life was to short and too wonderful to be listening at idiots talking stupid stuff. It was best to stop things right on time if you realize the person in front of you is just not that interesting. Natalia nodded and agreed.

 The allergy was determined to be related to a certain type of pepper, not the common one used in most dishes (black pepper) but a rare kind only found in North African cuisine. Natalia laughed, as she thought it was at least nice of Robert to take her to a restaurant that served the real cuisine of the country that the dish was from. Even Laura, her friend, laughed like crazy the day Natalia was allowed to go back home. She pushed her friend’s wheelchair to the main entrance and all the way there they laughed at poor Robert, Laura even confessing she knew he was annoying but not at that level.

 Natalia asked Laura If she knew why he hadn’t come to visit her. After all, he had been with her when it happened and it seemed only natural. But Laura told her friend that Robert was one of those men that like to show off in front of women but when they fuck up, they are afraid forever of the person that sees them being real humans. Natalia thought that was very weird but moved on. She had had much worst dates than one!