A Night Out

“Sometimes you got to have a little faith.” she said. I wanted more than anything to have faith. I wanted to trust, to believe, to feel that somewhere out there hope waited. She gave me an expectant look and then walked away.

We met on a cool November evening in Austin, Texas. I had spent the better part of three days with a bad malaise. My whole life I had suffered from discontentment. Most of the time it seemed to be a general discontentment, possibly the kind most associated with depression and denial. After three days of bed rest I was ready to go out and never return, at least until my next bout.

The temperature hovered around the seventy degree mark all-day, but took a sudden dip as the sun went down. Office workers in short sleeves were scurrying about, caught off guard by the unexpected drop in temperature. They hurried to their cars bracing themselves for the congested commute home.

The denizens of Sixth Street were a hardy bunch. It occurred to me this might be the place to shake off the effects of my three day imprisonment. Many of the nightclubs that were home to live music and an eclectic mix of people were situated on Sixth Street.

The university was nearby and unleashed a torrent of people from all walks of life and age groups. I was drawn to this, not because of the clubs but to watch the people. I was not one for socializing and kept a small group of friends who were for the most part, undependable. The question was not whether I was going out, but which friend would take pity and join me.

In the four years I had lived-in Austin I had made four friends. Or be exact it would be two friends and two friendly acquaintances. It’s always been that way, not that I was unfriendly or impolite. To be truthful it had more to do with the fact that I was a needy, whiny child. Forty seven years old and I had not yet grown up.

The first call made was to Mitchell, a friend of mine from Guatemala. His hair and skin were dark and he had fine features. He came from a well-to do family and he often preferred to be called by the name of his grandfather, ‘Neto’. I never new what this meant but I thought because of his meticulously clean nature it may be Spanish for clean boy.

The problem with Mitchell was his cell phone. You would think he was part of the Bell family as many calls as he receives. They were always in a language I did not understand, probably some cryptic form of Guatemalan slang. If there was such a thing as a best friend, and that is a term I am not particularly fond of, Mitchell would be it.

“What do you want?” Mitchell blurted out.

“Are you up to going out for a beer tonight?” I asked.

“I can’t,” he said, “I am going to meet my brother in College Station.”

“You use that excuse every other night, don’t you think you could come up with a new one?”

“I never thought I needed to.”

“I guess not.” I said.

“Later.” he said and hung up the phone.

Since Mitchell is a no go the next call would be John. I had come to think of John as an overly cool geek. He likes to party, stay fit, flirt, and party some more. Even so, John, despite his love of partying was doomed to house arrest, for he had met a girl. Her name was Nicole. She was fourteen years younger than John, much better looking, and as sweet as can be. Who could blame him?

“Hello.” John said.

“Am I catching you at a bad time?” I asked.

“No, what’s up?”

“I was seeing if you wanted to grab a beer at Bill’s Billiards tonight."

“I would love to but I have too much work.”

“You use that excuse every other night.”

“Every other night I have too much work. On the nights I don’t have too much work, I have Nicole.”

“Later.” I said to my whipped chum and hung up.

Martin being one of my friendly acquaintances was third in line. Martin gave the appearance of the lone Siamese twin, who survived the surgery that separated from his ill-fated doppelganger. He looked like Chang and Eng – minus the Eng.

The bones in his face were twisted leaving him with a perpetual freak show smile. His left arm drooped as if by a miracle of modern medicine and they were able to attach the left arm of Eng to Chang’s body. Martin was always good for a laugh.

“What’s up Martin?” I asked.

“Same old same old.” he said in a droll manner.

I suddenly realized I was not in the mood for Martin’s company but felt obliged to ask, “What are you doing this evening?”

“Nothing.” he said.

“Uggghhh, do you want to grab a beer tonight?”

“No, I think I am going to stay home and watch T.V.”

“Thank Christ.” I mumbled.

“What was that?”

“Nothing, we’ll shoot for another night.” I said.

“Okay.” he said and hung up.

My final friendly acquaintance was Calvin. Calvin was from Hong Kong and somewhat of an enigma to me. He seemed as though he wanted to break loose, but was not sure how to achieve this goal. I did not know Calvin well. Attractive, with impeccable manners, he was always a pleasure to hang out with. I would have called him, had I not lost his number.

It appeared tonight I would be on my own, a man-child walking the streets of the city. It seemed a fine idea to throw caution to the wind and say, “What the fuck.”

It felt strange visiting my old haunts without my friends. There was a new club opening on Sixth Street and I figured it was worth a try. I walked to the parking lot behind the club and made a covert attempt to smoke a big fatty. I often found myself sipping a little weed when I need to ratchet up my courage a notch. I succeeded in smoking the joint, but realized I was not covert at all. But after all this was Austin where everyone else was trying to be just as covert, most of them failing.

Feeling better I walked toward the entrance of the club and saw a large man guarding the door. I asked him if there was any action tonight.
“For five dollars you can walk in and find out for yourself.” he said.

I ponied up the five dollars and walked through the door. Immediately, I was overcome by the smell of jasmine incense. The corridor leading into to the club was bathed in black light. There were posters covering every inch of wall space. It was a psychedelic dream full of dark blinding colors. It was a homage to another time.

I exited the corridor and made my way to the bar. The atmosphere was subdued, darkened like the corridor. It took my eyes a few seconds to adjust, but then I saw a few patrons standing with their backs to the bar, scanning the club floor in front of them.

I looked away from the bar and saw to my horror I had paid five dollars to join in conversation pits with people I did not know. The décor of the pits looked to be a cross between feng shui gone awry and sixties retro. Sofa groups were thrown together with no rhyme of reason. In front of each sofa sat a coffee table, each adorned with a lave lamp. These groupings were filled with men and women engaged in various conversations.

I looked back towards the bar. The people’s faces that were obscured to me only minutes before now beckoned me. There was an occasional look from the groupings my eyes flitted in all directions to avert their gaze. I crept toward the bar, stationing myself in the darkest corner. At last I was safe. Free and clear. I could watch over my domain, unnoticed.

“What can I get for you?” the bartender queried.

Startled I turned and saw him standing on the other side of the bar. “Scotch rocks.” I said.

“Coming right up.” he said walking away.

Turning to watch the group, I hatched my plan. I would light at one of the sofa groups and join in the conversation, no matter how many drinks I needed to consume to find the courage. I continued to gaze out at the people.

“Here you go sir.” the bartender said.

Startled again, this time embarrassed, I turned and said, “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” he replied. “That will be four dollars.”

I saw a grin on his face for he recognized my embarrassment. I handed him a five telling him to keep the change. He started to walk away but instead turned around. “I hear the conversation is spirited this evening.”

“Thanks.” I replied.

“If you decide to join one of the conversations there is a table that has asked for the honor of your company.” he said.

“Thanks.” I said again, thinking of the wit and charm I had to offer this evening. I suspected I would need to branch out beyond monosyllabic words to be taken seriously.

Again, I turned toward the pits. As I looked about I realized the immensity of the club. There was constant movement as people wandered randomly from one conversation pit to another. I looked about the club for a familiar face but found none.

The lighting was subdued, a combination of black light, lava lamps, and an occasional incandescent used like a trail of breadcrumbs to lead you to the rest rooms. It allowed me to see about one quarter of the club without squinting.
The bartender walked in my direction to see if I was ready for another drink. I nodded, heading him off at the pass. He turned, working his way to a myriad of bottles.

What had he said? Someone had asked for the honor of my company, why? Again I looked hoping the person seeking my conversation was out there waving, frantically trying to gain my attention. I saw no one.

I wondered who would want to engage me in conversation. What would they want to speak of? I thought of leaving, but remembered I had ordered another drink, besides, I had made a promise too involve myself in conversation this evening and I would do just that.

The bartender slid the drink in my direction as I passed a five off to him. He did not offer any change.

“What goes on in those pits?” I asked.

“There are a broad range of conversations. It’s all sort of Bohemian. They gravitate towards politics, religion, philosophy, literature, sex, music, drugs, not necessarily in that order.” he said.

“What if you are not familiar with some of the subjects?” I asked.

“Fake it.” he said with a smile.

That seemed like good advice. Between the drinks and the joint I smoked in the parking lot I felt ready to fake my way into any conversation.” You mentioned a table that showed an interest in my company.” I said noticing my palms were a bit sweaty.

“Would you like for me to make a call to their table?” he asked.

“If you would please.” I said handing him another two dollars. The bartender picked up the receiver and punched two buttons. He spoke for a moment, then put the receiver down and pointed in the direction of a ping-pong paddle being held high in the air. Emblazoned on the paddle was the number 37 lit in green neon.

I walked slowly, all the time calculating and questioning what I could possibly add to their conversation. I looked up and the number 37 was still being displayed, my only beacon through the darkened room. I tried to pick up the pace but found myself lost in a sea of legs. I was tripping my way to the table, stumbling twice and pitching forward once.

I found my face catapulting ever closer to a pair of large breasts. The scent of Chanel #5 wafted towards me and I found the experience to be both pleasant and erotic. I nearly completed my fall when it became obvious I could right myself and everyone at the table knew it.

I quickly stood erect again, a blissful smile on my face, a table full of grimaces around me. My smile went through a moment of muscle contractions, from blissful to apologetic as I moved on. I bumbled on until I was in front of table 37. The paddle was still being held high in the air. I looked at her sitting on the tacky sofa in front of me. She was beautiful, a cross between free spirit and competent businesswoman. Both qualities seemed to be tied up neatly in one package. Dressed in a business suit, her jacket at her side, she personified the word competent.

Her red hair blazed in the subdued light. Her skin was milky perfection. Her features were splendid to look at. On seeing her smile I wanted to melt.

She was seated in the middle of a group of four men, her harem. A couple of her friends looked as though they had come from a tattoo shop on the drag. The tattoos looked mainly like black barbed wire fences or Japanese designs. I am not sure there is a number large enough to represent all the piercings I saw on the men. They were obviously students of the university.

She, the one I feel I have known forever, patted the seat next to her, beckoning me. I sat, trapped like the proverbial deer in the headlights and smiled at the people sitting in the group. They returned the smile. I then looked at her and saw she was studying me. She introduced herself as Jennifer.

I looked at her and said, “Hello, my name is Jeff.”

“These are my friends, Luke, Perry, Steven, and Tyler.” she said.
I nodded and she conducted formal introductions to her tablemates. There seemed to be something vaguely familiar about their names, like something out of pop culture, and I was sure I had met Jennifer before. It was gnawing at me. Where had that meeting taken place?

I looked at Jennifer and blurted out, “I have met you before can you remember where?”

She smiled and assured me we had not met recently, but we would get to that later, at which point she sat back in her seat. A smile still on her face she sat luxuriously on the sofa. She was a woman who was ready to hold court.

“We were discussing religion.” Luke said.

“Namely the Wiccan tradition of hand fasting, are you familiar with that?” Perry asked.

“No.” I replied. I looked at Jennifer. She was staring into the distance, a serene smile on her face.

”Are you familiar with the movie The Godfather?” Steven asked.

“Yes I am.” I said knowingly.

Steven continued, “It’s like when Michael Corleone was sent too Sicily after killing the two men in the restaurant. He was strolling the countryside with his bodyguards when a group of women walked by. Michael sees Apollonia and his heart jumps, instinctively he knows it is love. The guards witnessed this and later tell Michael he has been struck by the thunderbolt.”

“I remember that scene and the courtship that followed. It seemed to be a magical relationship.” I said.

“It is interesting that you should use the word magical to describe the relationship.” Tyler said.

“Why is that?” I asked.

“Because to be hit by the thunderbolt is magical.” Luke said.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.” I said.

“It’s like this,” Perry said. “How often do you know you have found love through nothing but a momentary glance?”

“Right now.” I said, not believing those words had just come from my mouth.

“Exactly.” Steven said.

I was beginning to feel woozy. I did not know whether to attribute this to the dope, drinks, or questions that were being hurled at me one after the other.

I did not understand the questions but I understood my answers even less. The one thing I did feel is I had been down this road before. That I had been asked the same questions more or less, on numerous occasions. I was not able to understand this feeling, only that there was a certain giddiness to it.

I looked at Jennifer again, the distant smile still on her face. She appeared to be contentedly lost to another time and place. I had both a strong recognition and a deep love for her that I could not understand. I expected to wake at any moment, sweat oozing from my pores. Perhaps all of this was a dream. I would be happy to be away from the barrage of questions both soothing and irritating at the same time. I knew I would feel a deep sadness if I were forced to leave Jennifer behind. If this were a dream perhaps I could conjure Jennifer again in future dreams.

Tyler awakened me from my daze and asked, “Do you believe it is possible you’ve been hit by the thunderbolt?”

“I don’t know.” I said confused.

“Let’s change tracks.” Luke said, “Do you believe in reincarnation?”

“I don’t know.” I said, “It’s a nice thought but how can you know until it happens?”

Jennifer stirred and turned toward me, the smile still on her face and said simply, “Sometimes you’ve got to have a little faith.”

“Faith in what?” I asked, but she only took a sip from her drink, returning her head to a forward gaze. She continued to smile as if she knew something others did not.

“Faith in yourself, faith in people, and faith in what you believe to be true no matter how bizarre it seems.” Perry said with conviction.

We all sat back for a moment. Each of us was looking in a different direction. I was lost, none of this was logical. I searched for an answer and the only one I could come up with was the thunderbolt had hit me and hit me hard. I looked at Jennifer and thought this is the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. My head was swirling.

Steven continued the questioning, “Do you have faith in anything?”

“I don’t know, I guess I would like to believe there is a cosmic ripple or collective unconscious, but truthfully, I can’t say I have much faith in anything.” I said.

The giddiness was beginning to wear thin. Who were these people and what gave them the right to query me in such a manner. I wanted to run, find my way back to the parking lot and smoke a big fatty. I could come back to the table them a dazzle them with some of my philosophical meanderings. But it was no use, I was trapped. I would answer a million questions if it would lead me closer to her.

“Do you feel strange at this moment? Tyler asked, “Do you feel like you are seated next to the woman you will end your days with?”

“Yes.” I said, my had spinning. I knew what I wanted but I didn’t know why. It seemed all consuming. I had to have this woman.

It was Luke’s turn to speak, “Have you ever heard of hand fasting?”

“No.” I replied.

He went on, “Hand fasting is a way of showing love and respect for each other. It is in fact a Wiccan marriage.”

I nodded dully. Perry continued where Luke left off, “The tradition allows a couple to unite for a year, a lifetime, or all lifetimes.” Steven said, “When Jennifer saw you she knew you were the one. I’m guessing that just about now you are having the same feelings, right?”

“That is right.” I said. Emotions flooded in from all directions. I was lost. I felt a sort of anger for these four men while at the same time wanting to thank them, for what I am not sure.

The things they said seemed to be an incredible flight of fancy, yet I could not deny my feelings. They poked and prodded some more and in the end I continued to give the same lame answers.

There was a long moment of silence and then Tyler said, “I hope you have heard what we have said. I have felt what I think you are feeling now and I hope we have helped you understand some are more in tune than others. If you live enough lifetimes you find the auras are not hard to read. She saw you and knew - I hope you believe.”

The four men rose, said their good-byes, and left. Jennifer and I were left sitting side by side. I felt at once both awkward and at ease. She reached into her purse and retrieved a business cardholder.

Looking at me she said, “I realize this is an anomaly’ this is probably too much to take in. My friends and I were simply trying to explain what we both know to be true.” She dropped a business card on the table rose slowly. “Think about what my friends said and remember sometimes you’ve got to have a little faith.” She then walked away.

Faith I thought. I was beside myself. No fatty could have prepared me for the last thirty minutes. It seemed a fitting time for another drink, at this moment alcohol seemed the appropriate elixir.

I picked up her business card and walked to the bar. I looked for the tentacles that were covering the floor but found none. There was nothing but open passages ahead of me. I strode to the bar with a newly gained confidence.

I backed up to the bar watching the crowd from a wonderful vantage point. I gazed out among the crowd and imagined her sitting there by my side. I looked forward to a future where depression would fade into the distance.

“How was the conversation?” the bartender asked.

“Very informative.” I said turning to him with no fear.

“I hear that a lot.” he said, “Can I get you another drink?”

“A double please.” I said.

The bartender moved toward the bottles, a little slower than earlier. I had collected my thoughts. I didn’t know whether these men were right or wrong, I didn’t care. While what they spoke of was a lovely concept I knew only one thing. I wanted to spend this lifetime, if not all lifetimes with Jennifer. Perhaps we met in this lifetime just as we have met in past lifetimes and we are detined to in future lives.

I looked at my watch and saw it had been twenty minutes since she had left. I grabbed my phone as I looked at her business card. I found the cell phone number on the card and dialed it. I waited while it rang.