smokey nights of whiskey dreams: when we become animals.

27/03/2011 § 2 Comments

“Yes, we have bodies and we have brains, but we also have our minds.”

I was trying to explain the concept — one that has been pondered before by great thinkers — to the pinging pool playing Brit, who will remain nameless. His face was jovial from ale and finally finding a place where he felt he belonged.

I sat between him and my friend, the silver fox, on my left. My girl had recently been told by a furry lurker across the bar that her recently silvered hair should be their basis of union. They were soul mates, this furry lurker said. They should be together. My friend turned her metallic-haired head back to us,

“You painted your toenails blue!” my silvered fox friend said to the quiet Brit to my right.

“Yeh, they ar´ blue, in´t they. I could see yu witha black ore ´ot pink,” he chuckled to the snow fox.

Another advance from hounds on her left. The fox smiling and fairing fine.

“Yu le´ me know if ya wont me a move ova for anee a these young lads, yeh?” he whispered to me.

“It´s alright. I like hanging out with you and sipping my whiskey.”

“So, if ya dun´ mine me askin´, why Argentina?”

“I dunno. Why not? Why Argentina for you?”

“I dunno. I grew up me ´ole life intr´verted annit wont ´til I got ´ere tha peoplactually stauted approachin´ me to talk t´ me. I began feelin´ reelly comftable so I decided to stay. It felt like I belongd ´ere.”

“Wow. That’s amazing. You definitely don’t seem shy. If you don’t mind me asking, do you think perhaps you were just of the mind set to be more approachable and that being in this place was just coincidental? Or you think it’s the people? Or both?”

“Well, I ne´er thought abowtit tha´ way. Whatd’ya think?”

I didn’t really know.

***

That night, the fox and I got back to the den and fried up some homemade Mac&Cheese for a mid-morning snack before bed. In the morning, or afternoon, but does it really matter, we heard the door open. It was a friend, a new friend, readying for a trip to the centre of the country to go horse-back riding.

¨You want some medialunas?¨ said entered friend.

¨Yeah, was just about to get up and make some coffee,¨said the silver fox and she turned to me:

¨Yo, home girl. I had a dream in Spanish last night. Didn´t want it to end so I made myself keep dreaming in Spanish…¨

¨Girl, that´s amazing! You keep thinking you can´t speak the language, but you keep doing it. How do you feel about that? Do you believe yourself, yet?¨

We cut up 3 types of cheese and melted them over the Argentine croissants. Three each because that is custom. We cut the peaches into half and then thirds. The three of us sat with three cups of coffee putting dollops of heavy cream into each. We decided not to make a third moka.

Breakfast devoured, bodies fed, we sat and gave ourself the time to mindlessly watch three episodes of the last season of Tru Blood. A whole day, unshowered, our language barely coherent, dragging from couch to chair was a much needed break from too much of everything.

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