Valentine's Day was yesterday here, and I didn't realise it was happening until I came into work and found red, heart-shaped balloons in the reception foyer. I asked Eugene, the dev who was in before me if he was in early because it was Valentine's day and he said his plans for the evening were Crossfit, drinking beer and watching football :) I'm delighted to day that Liverpool won last night as well, 5-0 against Porto.
Right, for today, in keeping with my utter obliviousness to the "meaning" of Valentine's day, we shall revisit these characters.
Beloved The bar was dark and smokey, though this was because of things burning in the kitchen and the power shorting out erratically rather than any intent by the owners. There was a lingering scent of charcoal and an odd metallic smell that might have been burning tin. Mixing into it at a low level was the horrible smell of burning insulation and more than one diner had pushed their food away with a moue of disgust. At the bar Pestilence was staring into his glass of whiskey, and Famine was pushing Bombay mix around in a shallow saucer. It appeared to have something green and fuzzy growing on it. Pestilence lifted the glass and knocked the whiskey back. The glass rang, a pure note in the thickening gloom of the bar, as he set it back down on the bar, and the barman approached with a lot of caution and a wet rag over his mouth and nose. "Are you afraid of me?" asked Pestilence, and his voice was the sound of thousands of beetles rattling their wings cases as they prepared for flight. "Can't breathe in here with all this smoke," said the barman. "Can't figure out why we've not closed yet to be honest. Same again?" Pestilence looked over the liquor bottles behind the bar and shrugged. "Sure," he said. "It's something to do." "Are you waiting for something then?" The barman hadn't intended to ask the question; both the people at the bar made him feel very uneasy and his ribs were aching oddly. "Waiting for the girlfriends," said Famine. "Teapot," said Pestilence. The barman shook his head, not sure that he'd heard the last word correctly, and then his ears shook his brain violently to check that he'd understood the first answer. "Girlfriends?" Famine smiled and the barman wondered if he'd remembered to eat breakfast. "You thought we were waiting for boyfriends?" "Or perhaps that we were a couple?" asked Pestilence. The ache in the barman's ribs intensified and he set the refilled whiskey glass back down on the counter. Pestilence pushed money forward and the barman, unwilling to touch it, shook his head. "On the house," he said. "No, I wasn't thinking anything about you two, to be honest, just that... well, are your girlfriends really going to look for in a bar that looks like it's burning down?" "I think we'd make a teapot couple," said Pestilence, his voice turning moody. "But Mr. Picky here doesn't like people who are too fat." Despite himself the barman snorted with laughter: Pestilence was thin enough that you could see his ribs despite his dirty t-shirt. "I just don't trust people with the wrong number of ribs," said Famine. "So I like to be able to count them." "You like to play them like a xylophone," said Pestilence. "You're weird." "You're the one who thinks we should be a couple." Pestilence knocked the whiskey back again. "Shall we go and see what's keeping the girls?" "Sure," said Famine. "Which ones were we dating again?"
“So, it’s a match made in heaven!” she stated with a grin.
“Or hell, sometimes,” I quipped back, laughingly, talking about my beloved. “No, but really, you take the good and the bad, it isn’t all fairies and roses, even on Valentines Day. That’s the reality of marriage, of any partnership, or any friendship, even. It’s never ‘always perfect’ because nothing in life is. We don’t really get taught how to be in a relationship. People are so full of complexes and neuroses that they can’t see they have a problem within themselves, let alone admit to it and try and fix it.”
“Yeah,” she accepted. “It’s ‘the blamers’ I find hardest to deal with. They don’t own anything about their own behaviours or mistakes. How can one deal with that?”
“I’ve no idea. I think we should be taught more about psychology in school, maybe that’d help diminish such problems.”
4 comments:
Valentine's Day was yesterday here, and I didn't realise it was happening until I came into work and found red, heart-shaped balloons in the reception foyer. I asked Eugene, the dev who was in before me if he was in early because it was Valentine's day and he said his plans for the evening were Crossfit, drinking beer and watching football :) I'm delighted to day that Liverpool won last night as well, 5-0 against Porto.
Right, for today, in keeping with my utter obliviousness to the "meaning" of Valentine's day, we shall revisit these characters.
Beloved
The bar was dark and smokey, though this was because of things burning in the kitchen and the power shorting out erratically rather than any intent by the owners. There was a lingering scent of charcoal and an odd metallic smell that might have been burning tin. Mixing into it at a low level was the horrible smell of burning insulation and more than one diner had pushed their food away with a moue of disgust. At the bar Pestilence was staring into his glass of whiskey, and Famine was pushing Bombay mix around in a shallow saucer. It appeared to have something green and fuzzy growing on it.
Pestilence lifted the glass and knocked the whiskey back. The glass rang, a pure note in the thickening gloom of the bar, as he set it back down on the bar, and the barman approached with a lot of caution and a wet rag over his mouth and nose.
"Are you afraid of me?" asked Pestilence, and his voice was the sound of thousands of beetles rattling their wings cases as they prepared for flight.
"Can't breathe in here with all this smoke," said the barman. "Can't figure out why we've not closed yet to be honest. Same again?"
Pestilence looked over the liquor bottles behind the bar and shrugged. "Sure," he said. "It's something to do."
"Are you waiting for something then?" The barman hadn't intended to ask the question; both the people at the bar made him feel very uneasy and his ribs were aching oddly.
"Waiting for the girlfriends," said Famine.
"Teapot," said Pestilence.
The barman shook his head, not sure that he'd heard the last word correctly, and then his ears shook his brain violently to check that he'd understood the first answer.
"Girlfriends?"
Famine smiled and the barman wondered if he'd remembered to eat breakfast. "You thought we were waiting for boyfriends?"
"Or perhaps that we were a couple?" asked Pestilence. The ache in the barman's ribs intensified and he set the refilled whiskey glass back down on the counter. Pestilence pushed money forward and the barman, unwilling to touch it, shook his head.
"On the house," he said. "No, I wasn't thinking anything about you two, to be honest, just that... well, are your girlfriends really going to look for in a bar that looks like it's burning down?"
"I think we'd make a teapot couple," said Pestilence, his voice turning moody. "But Mr. Picky here doesn't like people who are too fat."
Despite himself the barman snorted with laughter: Pestilence was thin enough that you could see his ribs despite his dirty t-shirt.
"I just don't trust people with the wrong number of ribs," said Famine. "So I like to be able to count them."
"You like to play them like a xylophone," said Pestilence. "You're weird."
"You're the one who thinks we should be a couple."
Pestilence knocked the whiskey back again. "Shall we go and see what's keeping the girls?"
"Sure," said Famine. "Which ones were we dating again?"
Early Crush
Not too tall
Not too thin
Funny and sweet
Flirty and cute
Always just right
'Cause he only lives in my head!
morganna: cute.
Beloved
“So, it’s a match made in heaven!” she stated with a grin.
“Or hell, sometimes,” I quipped back, laughingly, talking about my beloved. “No, but really, you take the good and the bad, it isn’t all fairies and roses, even on Valentines Day. That’s the reality of marriage, of any partnership, or any friendship, even. It’s never ‘always perfect’ because nothing in life is. We don’t really get taught how to be in a relationship. People are so full of complexes and neuroses that they can’t see they have a problem within themselves, let alone admit to it and try and fix it.”
“Yeah,” she accepted. “It’s ‘the blamers’ I find hardest to deal with. They don’t own anything about their own behaviours or mistakes. How can one deal with that?”
“I’ve no idea. I think we should be taught more about psychology in school, maybe that’d help diminish such problems.”
Or pigs might fly.
Greg - hah, I can just see your face when you first saw those balloons :)
Also: go Liverpool!
I cannot imagine what the girlfriends are like. I expect you shall fill us in at some point though.
These two are a fun pair and I'm glad you brought them back :)
Morganna - nicely done :)
Dragonfly - this is... unfortunately accurate. Very perceptive writing :)
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