Last Call

The loneliness lingers,
it swims through the bar
like a disease from hell.
We drink it away...

For starters, between the overly prescribed amount of muscle relaxers I am on, combined with the amount of alcohol I have consumed tonight, it is safe to claim that I am fucked up. But I met a man tonight, excuse me, we all met a man tonight that made us think a lot about life. Well, he at least made me think? I cannot speak for the others... The only thing I do know, is the saddening site of loneliness can make a man sober up within seconds.

Earlier tonight, my friends and I were having drinks down by the water. But seeing as how I am speaking of Charlotte Beach, that statement sounds much more beautiful than it really is. Anyway, we were just sitting there outside underneath the tent to protect us from the familiar falling rain that Rochester often loves to drown us in, when an old man decides to roll up on his scooter. You know, those scooters the elderly use to get around with. He parked his scooter right next to us, mumbling something about how amazing it is to be right by the water. It's the little thing in life, right?

His name was Jeremiah, which I found a little odd, seeing as he was just an ordinary looking old white fella. Jer' (what his friends call him, or.. once called him) wore rugged clothes that smelled of heavily smoked cigarettes and cheap beer, grayish-whitish locks, and a hat pinned with old U.S. military symbols. He had dog-tags that hung loosely from his neck, and a smile that I just cannot forget. He was our entertainment for the night. Well, at least some of us were paying attention to his elongated stories about fightin' in the war, and about the women he once loved. I bit the bullet and just sat there, listening to story after story about the many experiences he had, and about what could have been. I sat there an listened because I think that's all he wanted out of tonight.

He showed us a picture, a memory of before, back about thirty-somethin' years. It was a picture of him holding his daughter- his "pride and joy, reason for living, and purpose for breathing". The picture looked like a photo, that today, only a filter could produce something so antique yet wonderful. He also kept repeating the sad story of how he never got the honor of walking his daughter down the isle at her wedding, primarily because of some stupid fight that they were in at the time. With this story, I once again thought about how minimal certain things are in life, and how focusing on these silly moments could potentially cause extreme heartache and sadness in the long run. Jer' and I both agreed that this little thing we call life, is much too short to not live our days with love.

No one heard me say it, but I told this man something, I whispered to him, "I wish everyone enjoyed the beauty of life like you do". Hell, the old man deserves some recognition, he was just sippin' a Heineken, telling stories, and trying to kick it back with some youngsters down by the water. It's people like this guy that make you appreciate certain moments.

The hours counted down, and this old man who rolled up to the bar on a red scooter, was still just chillin there' aside our table, babbling about life, and all it's ups and downs. I got that feeling again, the one inside my heart, that racing sort of sensation I begin to feel whenever my mind cannot conquer my thoughts. I began to think about life again, why we're here, our purpose for taking breaths, and what it truly means to live. But then it all just came to me; it all started to make sense...

...We are simply here to live, to enjoy every moment, for our moments can be taken from us at any point, any second, during any blink of our eyes (...and O' how badly I wish our eyes never had to close). It's times like these, people like this, or the man that rolled up to bar on the red scooter, that make you realize how significant each little breath we take really is. Although i was truly trying to pay attention to his never-ending stories, I already was drowning in his words from earlier, back when he said: "this life is nothing, unless you allow yourself to enjoy it", then went on shouting something  about War, Woman, and Wounds (he said that all three make us stronger as people).

I must admit, I may have dramatized this situation a bit, but just because we were all laughing and enjoying the moment, doesn't mean that I didn't feel the deeper meaning behind all of the entertainment. Everything in life, to me, is poetry. Moments are just metaphors for us to either understand and remember, or to simply look over and quickly forget. But to me, the minimal moments spent with this man made me realize certain things about life.. all of its crazy ups and downs, its pain and suffering, but most of all, its tiny beauties and loveliness that shines through simply through a brief interaction.

Jer' went on and on, smokin' cigarettes, and sippin' beer, something about how happy he was that we talked to him. On the more depressing side of things, I thought about how lonely this man seemed, and why he felt the need to ride his scooter to the bar by the water after drinking all day
(he claimed he had started drinking at 3:00 pm, but who am I to judge? Who are we to judge? We have all started much earlier). On the more depressing side of things, I guess I realized how lonely we all are, sitting there sippin' whiskey after whiskey, beer after beer, searching our glasses for answers, in which we all know too well, will never come...

...But this is the moment when I looked around at all of my friends, my best friends, my brothers and sisters who were always there, night after night, drinkin' below the moonlight with me, talking about little things like life, and death, and War, and Woman, and Wounds. The scars we ware are nothing but tattoos of memories that we'll never forget

Did I mention that Jer' had throat cancer? He told me this while smoking a half-a-pack of cigarettes, which I just didn't understand (but once again, who am I to judge, right? Every man has a muse, some even 'til the day they day). This man has been through some shit, he has seen the darkest days of life, and he has embraced those times when even the sun has had the guts to shine at night. He knew much more about life than I did, so why wouldn't I listen?

Jer' thanked me for allowing him to sit and drink with us, and said that we were nice kids for listening to the rambling nonsense within his stories. Most people would've just ignored the poor man and sent him on his way to drink by himself, against the railing, overlooking the water. But not my friends, not my friends I tell ya', we embraced his presence and listened. We learned tonight, about all of the aspects of life, and I guess what I'm saying here, is that I won't ever forget his words. Lastly, a toast to the old man that rolled up to the bar on is red scooter: Thanks for talking to us. Although the stories were just your memories that one day we hopefully can talk about too, I hope you know we all took something away from it.

On our way out, Jer' shook my hand and gave me a hug, and I told him thank you for telling us all about your life, it was very fun and interesting to listen to. He then told me that he should have written a book... I told him something cliche like, "It's never too late", and he laughed. This is where most people would go there separate ways, but not me, not me. As a writer, or whatever I am these days, I had to ask him what the title of the book would be, if he ever wrote it. He told me, "Last Call", and I asked him why...

..He said, "In all my years of going out, and all those nights when I was bar-tending, the worst part was when someone screamed out Last Call, because that meant that everyone had to stop drinking, and had to stop talking to each other". I didn't really react. I think it's because I understood exactly what he meant by it, and I had nothing else to say. We both smiled and made our way home, he on his red scooter, me in my buddies car.

It was still raining...

Sometimes we swim in the rain,
and sometimes we drink too much.
But often, we interact with each other
to feel alive, to feel hope and happiness,
to fill that little space called loneliness.