Creativity Sunday - Boring Night
"Well, shit. A lady in red. You so rarely actually see that."
My friend looked. There was indeed a woman in a red dress standing at the bar. It's funny, but it was only on noticing her - literally, the moment I noticed her - that I realised every single other person was wearing black. Colour just wasn't a thing anymore, it seemed. Only for the bold.
"So", my friend asked, "are you going to go talk to her?"
"What? No, fuck that."
I'm not bold.
My friend (her name is Karen, by the way) responded with a snorted laugh. "Whatever man, your call. We'll find you someone some day."
"Sure." I picked up my glass and took a drink. "Some day."
Annoyingly the drink was non-alcoholic, which didn't really fit the scene, but fuck it, I'd driven us here, and hell if I was going to drink-drive on a Friday evening. Ghost chips, and that.
Our pizza came. We ate it.
"You know what your problem is?" Karen asked as the waitress cleared the dishes. A few seconds' pause made it clear the question wasn't entirely rhetorical, so I hazarded an answer.
"No?"
"Correct! The problem is, that you don't even know what your problem is!"
Karen, it should be said, was not drinking non-alcoholic drinks.
"Thanks?" I tried.
"You're welcome" she said definitively, finishing her drink and apparently that line of conversation simultaneously. "I say" she said - she did actually say 'I say', it was a glorious quirk of hers - "this really is rather boring, isn't it?"
"Yes, fair enough. What, you reckon we should try the comedy version of this conversation?"
"Why, what's the com-"
"Bum."
There was quite a considerable pause. "Okay", Karen replied eventually, "I might have figured out at least one of your problems."
My friend looked. There was indeed a woman in a red dress standing at the bar. It's funny, but it was only on noticing her - literally, the moment I noticed her - that I realised every single other person was wearing black. Colour just wasn't a thing anymore, it seemed. Only for the bold.
"So", my friend asked, "are you going to go talk to her?"
"What? No, fuck that."
I'm not bold.
My friend (her name is Karen, by the way) responded with a snorted laugh. "Whatever man, your call. We'll find you someone some day."
"Sure." I picked up my glass and took a drink. "Some day."
Annoyingly the drink was non-alcoholic, which didn't really fit the scene, but fuck it, I'd driven us here, and hell if I was going to drink-drive on a Friday evening. Ghost chips, and that.
Our pizza came. We ate it.
"You know what your problem is?" Karen asked as the waitress cleared the dishes. A few seconds' pause made it clear the question wasn't entirely rhetorical, so I hazarded an answer.
"No?"
"Correct! The problem is, that you don't even know what your problem is!"
Karen, it should be said, was not drinking non-alcoholic drinks.
"Thanks?" I tried.
"You're welcome" she said definitively, finishing her drink and apparently that line of conversation simultaneously. "I say" she said - she did actually say 'I say', it was a glorious quirk of hers - "this really is rather boring, isn't it?"
"Yes, fair enough. What, you reckon we should try the comedy version of this conversation?"
"Why, what's the com-"
"Bum."
There was quite a considerable pause. "Okay", Karen replied eventually, "I might have figured out at least one of your problems."