Yor Ryeter

[1: 370 of 10,000] Liquor Talk

In Short Story on September 20, 2011 at 10:36 AM

“Do you believe on destiny?”

It made me paused. ‘I’m drinking my 7th margarita and 5th tequila shots or was it 6th? I lost count but who’s counting anyway? Wait, so this man was asking if I believe about destiny.’

“Have you seen the movie ‘The Adjustment Bureau’?” I blurted.

“Yes,” he answered.

“The story implied that man is so fool of himself he doesn’t deserve his own freewill unless like what Matt and Emily who fought that they deserved it and convinced the chairman to rewrite it.”

“Don’t you believe that it might be destiny that brought you here with me?” he seriously asked.

“Hold it!” as I raised my hand with the glass with all my might to stop him from continuing his silly thought, ‘yes he is silly!’, “Mister I was on this bar stool first, I brought myself here, and it has absolutely nothing to do about you.”

“I guess if you were here first I wouldn’t be able to count that you’ve finished 8 tequila shots and that my friend you’re holding is the 7th margarita. You’re quite a drinker, I’m seriously amazed.”

‘At least I got the margarita count right, but I thought I am not counting.’ “Even if you know how many have I been drinking doesn’t make me yours.”

He chuckled and asked, “Why are you drinking anyway?”

“Why do you want to know?” I rebutted.

“You’re in a bar alone and it’s not safe for you, how do you think you’ll manage to go home?”

“It’s a hotel, I can check myself in.”

“Can you even sign?”

“Of course I can.” And I knew at that moment that I was trying to convince myself and he sensed it.

“Whatever it is that is bothering you, I tell you now that liquor can never help you.”

“Are you really lecturing me?” and I gave him a quizzical look.

“I guess I am – concern,” and he coughed like he doesn’t want the other people to hear it.

“Are you some kind of a good guy or a predator luring me to his den?” now the liquor must be kicking in that I am talking gibberish but without a hint of fear or danger.

“Please don’t say that.”

“Which one? The good guy or the predator?”


“Who are you then?”

“The…” he coughed again, “concern guy.”

“Shit! You don’t want others to hear you say you’re concern?” I might have said it in a loud voice that people around us were looking. He pretended that he didn’t do anything unusual but I guess it was too late.

“Mr. President!” someone in a white shirt with a rolled sleeves and a loosen tie approached the man I was talking to and ‘did he just say Mr. President? I must be really drunk.’

“Hi, good evening,” he courteously greeted and I thought ‘very politician huh and predictable.’

“I can’t believe this. Wait – sorry am I interrupting something?” and the guy looked at me, ‘was that pity on his eyes, am I that drunk looking?’ I tried to look myself in a mirror or something but I can’t find one anywhere.

“Actually I am with a friend,” he gently answered.

“I’m sorry, well it was a pleasant surprise to see you,” he shook hands with The President and left us but the other people’s eyes were still scrutinizing us.

“Sorry about that,” he said sincerely.

“I’m not a country to be taken cared of,” and I lean closely to him to whisper, “and we’re never friends.”

“I know,” he laughed, “but still you need assistance and I can be of service if you like.”

I looked at him and I kept drinking.

“I think we should stop talking now,” as I continue to drink. I see him weighing my words, he didn’t speak, but he continued to watch me silently.

Finally I felt like I had enough. I stopped drinking. Called the bar tender and got my bill. I paid and I stood up slowly because I perfectly knew I need to set up a good balance if I do want to move without falling.

“Don’t argue and let me walk you,” The President supported me so I can walk. It was a good way to keep a balance. “Now where do you want to go home?” he looked at me and I can’t seem to remember where I live all I knew is I’m very sleepy.

The next thing I know is I was seated, I drink some water, I was in a cuddly bed with soft sheets, and the sun is kissing my cheeks. I got up and studied the room! I am in a hotel room with my last night’s clothes still on me. I looked at my watch and saw 11:00 AM.

A soft knock startled me.

“Good morning!” a man in suit with a happy smile greeted me. I don’t recognize him.

“Good morning?” I replied with a confused tone and look.

“Sorry I got to bring you in my suite. I can’t barely understand your last words so I thought I am just concern and it wouldn’t do any harm that you’ll go home today instead of the very drunk lady last night.”

“You are undeniably cheery,” I am still trying to clear my head.

“Anyway, breakfast is ready if you feel like eating,” and there goes the happy smile again.

“I don’t know you but thank you I think I better go home now but I need a bathroom first.” I managed to stand up and headed to the bathroom but I guess I was about to open a closet.

“Not that, you better try the left door,” he suggested.

I tried the left door and it’s the bathroom indeed. I look like crap. I clean up and went out. I found him sitting in one of the chairs reading a paper.

“Hi, I got to move. Thank you for the night accommodation.”

“Do you always drink that much?” he asked nicely.

“No. I was just trying to loosen up.”

“Is everything loose now?” he asked with a smile.

“Yes,” and I smiled too.

Then my ridiculous tummy made a hungry roar.

“How about joining me for breakfast before you leave?”

It’s a Wednesday morning and I just lost my job yesterday so I guess I am not busy, I don’t need to hurry, and I can have a breakfast with a nice stranger.


On our way to the dining table –

“Do you remember anything about last night?” he asked.

“You mean how many I drank?”

“No, I mean our conversation and all?”

“No, I don’t actually remember you.”

“I see. I guess we can start all over with coffee.”

“Coffee is good.”


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