Notebook 22.9

Everyone else was already there when he arrived, already a few drinks into the night. He shook their hands and mumbled a hello. He even smiled at one of them. Once done, he slapped his thigh and his buttocks, checking for the location of his wallet. He looked at the froth-lined glasses in their hands. Want another? What are you drinking? He got out his wallet and used it to point. Two schooners of New, schooner of Blonde and a rum and coke. Thumbs up.

He carried the drinks back from the bar in a metal tray, checking their colour to determine whose was whose. The others clinked their glasses with his and drank in unison. He continued to drink after they had stopped, his adam’s apple flicking up and down in his throat. Finally, he pulled the glass from his lips and swallowed, baring his teeth and sighing. The others continued talking. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand then burped, blowing the foul smelling gas out of the corner of his mouth. He held the schooner glass against him, against his bottom ribs. Soon, very soon, it was empty. He looked back at the bar. It was too soon for him to go back without the others noticing and saying something about it. The conversation has lost him. He rocked side to side, shifting his weight. Without saying anything, he raised the glass to his mouth and tipped it up – a single drop cut through the foam and fell onto his tongue – then put it on the table and walked to the men’s room.

He’d used this one before.

At the urinal, he squeezed a piss out then peered at himself as he washed his hands. He wet his forefinger and wiped some sleep out of the corner of his eye. He looked tired, the furrows on his forehead thick.

On his way back, he bought another beer. The same barman served him – he was careful not to meet his eyes.

“Playing catch up are we?” His mate gestured with his own beer glass when he rejoined the group. He looked at him and responded with a small, confused nodded, but the expression on his mate’s face said that he didn’t expect a response and was saying it just to say it. His mate’s smile faded, he blinked and looked away.

As the number of empty schooner glasses on the nearby table continued to grow, he began to join the conversation. He laughed louder at the jokes. He said fuckin’ a lot and put his arm around the neck of his mates.

His eyes turned red and moist, like he’d been crying.

LI

Related posts:

1. Notebook 23.7
2. Notebook 15.12
3. Notebook 11.02