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Letting Go

Posted on November 29, 2007
Filed Under The Stories |

After years of fighting the good fight he finally decided to let go. It hadn’t been easy. He had tried everything in his power. He had done the exercises, he had worn the right clothes, chewed various roots and seeds, chanted a few mantras and even made several aborted attempts at eating the right food. He had tried abstaining from sexual self-satisfaction and even went through periods of not seeking mutual pleasure with another. He had done it all and spent a substantial portion of his life trying to keep the inevitable at bay. Today was the day he let go. It was the day he finally said enough. No more would he hold his stomach in. It put tremendous pressure on his spine to try and stay ‘chest ahead of belly’.

As he let his belt out and watched his mid-section advance he sighed, “Okay. You win.” He watched with great sadness as his belly settled into something that resembled thick paint threatening to overflow off the rim of a can on the incline of a precariously balanced two-by-four. Then he reached for the beer the bartender had placed before him. He sighed again and the bartender considered asking if he was okay but then he realized that he didn’t care. [A guy wants to talk to his dick? That’s his problem. I ain’t getting in the middle of that. At least not until he decides to whip his nasty out and wave it all around. Then I bring forth my shotgun and tell him what’s what.]

He almost felt like he needed to attend a Weight Watchers Anonymous meeting and say, “Hi, I’m Ned and it’s been five minutes since I gave up trying to put up the appearance of having a washboard stomach.” He realized that from here on, the true joys in his life would be found at the bottom of a glass or a bottle with names that suggested friendship because they had Bud in their title or the names of men called Johnnie or Jim. He expected to dig into salads with more dressing than the prostitutes he would take home. He sighed again and if he had been the crying sort he might have allowed a few tears to roll down his still-not-quite pudgy cheeks.

And that’s when he saw her.

To paraphrase and modernize a famous Bogart utterance he mumbled, “Of all the dumbass times to be late for all the worst fucked up reasons why in fucking fuck’s name couldn’t you have turned up ten minutes earlier?” If he thought he could get away with doing it unnoticed he would have sucked his stomach in and puffed his chest out and remained that way until he went blue in the face and lost consciousness or she waltzed over to a fitter, younger-looking man after some of the light from the bar caught the grey in his hair. Since he was sure she had already seen him he didn’t bother trying.

So it was with great surprise that he watched her come over and occupy the bar stool next to his. The bartender was over almost immediately, wearing a smile and a glint in his eye that said he could undress really quickly if the need arose, “Waiting for a table at the restaurant?”

She shook her head, “Vodka Red Bull please, easy on the Bull go crazy with the vodka.”

The bartender looked pointedly at Ned and said, “Perhaps you would like to get out of the shadows and join us on the other end where the light is better.”

“I’m not planning on doing any reading. Here is fine.”

The bartender didn’t know what to do but he couldn’t risk having the really hot girl walk out. Business was cutthroat and he could use the money from every drink he sold even if it hurt his aesthetic sense to see a vision as lovely as her seated next to a mopey dude who looked like he might cry.

When the drink arrived she looked at Ned and said, “I’m expecting you to buy me the next one.”

At that moment, you could have knocked Ned over with a feather and he would have the welt in the morning to prove it. So he said, “Pardon?”

She held an unlit cigarette and said, “Look around genius. A couple of those guys are already drinking Cosmopolitans they had planned to send over before I chose to sit here.”

“Okay…”

“So now that I’m sitting with you, you have to buy me a drink.”

“How about I pay for this one?”

“No. This one is mine. You can pay for the next one. I’m Alison by the way.”

“Ned.”

“Don’t say much Ned?”

“No. I…say stuff.”

She nodded and sipped her drink. Nodded and sipped some more. Ned watched her go and said, “Thirsty hunh?”

She shrugged, “Rough day.”

“Oh yeah? Me too.”

“Why? What happened?”

“You go first.”

“Oh I don’t know. I decided to kill myself today.”

“Sorry, what?”

She made a little clicking sound and said, “See, that’s so weird. Women are always saying men don’t listen but they always hear me when I say that. And then don’t change the subject. They go ‘what!” Just like you did.”

He didn’t know what to say to that but he tried, “Wh-why would you want to do that?”

“Why not? Life sucks right? And then you die? Everything good is so hard and so fleeting. Love, success, good health. Everything bad seems to happen in an instant. Getting dumped, getting fired, getting cancer…it’s not fair right? Still happens.”

“So why are you sitting here with me?”

“Because you looked like someone who had given up also.”

He didn’t think he heard right. His mouth went dry and he had trouble swallowing. He blinked but without moisture in his eyes it felt like he was dragging his eyelids over sandpaper. He seemed to deflate right before her eyes and then he said, “I only gave up on holding my stomach in. I gave up on pretending I was young anymore.”

“And you didn’t think life wasn’t worth living anymore?”

“For a second maybe. And then I saw you and I was too busy cursing myself for having let my guard down and I thought I’d never get your attention with my gut hanging out like that and I guess that made me realize that I wasn’t done with life yet.”

He would probably have gone on but she stopped him right there with a kiss on the lips like no other he had ever received before. His eyes stayed wide open through the whole thing so he got to watch her pull away and then open her eyes really slowly. From his point of view it looked like she had enjoyed kissing him, a lot. He touched his own lower lip, looking like he couldn’t believe what had happened and then he said, “What was that for?”

She smiled, “For finally being the guy that saw past this,” she was pointing at her face so he guessed she meant her looks, “and seeing this.” She poked her breast but he guessed she meant her heart. He shrugged, “Just in the same place at the right time I guess.”

She got to her feet and linked her arm in his, “Let’s go dancing.”

“I haven’t bought you that drink yet.”

She pecked him on the lips again and said, “Who needs alcohol when you’re high on life. Come on, let’s go.”

So they went. And as far as these things can possibly go, the beautiful girl and the really nice guy lived happily ever after.

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