paint a picture. and miss the 'so what?'

so i'm sitting in a bar a few days ago with a few friends, walk outside for a cigarette and get into a conversation with a patron about some sad novel he just read. i tell him i'm not for new fiction, but what's it about? the theme? the title. he states, with a glimmer in his half drunk-eye, about how perfect the theme is, about some university professor falling in love with a student, and how the student rejects him. he smothers his bald head, and does his best michael stipe, pulling on his sweater sleeves. sounds fucking miserable, i tell him, not inquiring further, and totally blocking the author and title out of my mind. i looked over and he seemed to be thinking dark thoughts right into the puddle in front of the bar. not that miserable people can't transcend misery even when they write about it, i offer. he looks away from the puddle, appearing more drunk than a minute ago. yeah, well, i'm a pretty miserable person, he says. there's nothing wrong with that, i counter. he smiles, yeah, there's a lot more people reading this stuff. which stuff? i wonder. he straightens himself out and heads for the bar entrance. nice to talk to you, he says as he shakes my hand, maybe we'll talk again.

i didn't really say much to him though. and as i sat down next to my friends, at the round edge of the bar where my beer was, i suddenly looked up and saw him sitting at the other end of the bar. in a seat congruent to mine, where i could see him looking at me the remainder of the hour. or was i looking at him? i remember getting out a cigarette and putting it behind my ear and seeing as he fetched one out, and reluctantly went towards the exit. my friends distracted me at that point with some arcane observation about the female sex, which made sense, and i stuck around, raising my voice and pointing my fingers at both of them. i check out all women, one of them said, not cuz i wanna fuck them, but to see what they seem to be saying with their body. see how they age, i add, see how they walk, how they react, posture about, get mad. i glance over and see the guy gone, and take the opportunity to scoop out some popcorn from the gratis popcorn machine which sits right next to his bar stool, at the other side of the bar.

i walk outside after getting the popcorn, light up a cigarette and shield myself under the ledge, away from the occasional walker-by on the slim sidewalk. i could hear his voice around the soft corner where the other ledge is located. his voice is alive now, a touch of queen and with a sprinkle of salesperson. he makes his way to the bar entrance, sees me and makes a awkward hi! while on the phone. i like him. he lost interest earlier while the my two friends and i charmed the bartender into giving us a student special on pitcher(s) even though we couldn't make with a student id. she charmed us right back and we took it in with signs of gratitude and glee. she kept coming back and making fun of the crick in my neck, as i bent my whole body over to watch a game on the tv. we all made her laugh heartily, and i watched the man look away from us. we all sat silent for a while. we had just came from a good hike in the hills. we walked up a nice hill, taking an old muddy trail, talking about the women in our lives, making obscene gestures at people walking by, and trying to trip each other. we all agreed to drink beer and walked down our hill.

we were to wait for a lady friend of mine at this bar. she was running about an hour late and not answering her phone...