The Inexorable Whims of a Summer Chicago Wind Pt.4

The Inexorable Whims of a Summer Chicago Wind Pt.4

By Brian K. Jones

Part Four

Around noon the next day I woke to find a note on the table next to the couch stating that I should stay until my friend came back from running a few errands.  She expressed a desire to catch up and reacquaint.  It occurred to me that we had done enough of that last night so I just hailed a taxi.

I used my cell phone to call the hotel and get the address and soon enough a middle eastern guy was taking me back to my hotel while the high pitched music of his people surgically cut through my temples like mean little scalpels.  People are always playing music they like for the rest of the uninitiated to like or dismiss.

My peripheral vision caught glimpses of the city as we drove towards my destination.  Some of it was beautiful and some of it rather ugly; they say the road to Hell is paved with good intentions but I think it’s mostly just paved with people.  People always forget that they’re just human when they’re riding the road to hell.

Poetry

I don’t particularly care for poetry.  That isn’t to say I think all of it’s rubbish, obviously it’s a meritorious form of art.  I suppose it’s just a preference.  For some reason, I’ve been inspired to write some recently.  The attention whore that i am I figured I would share it here.  It’s pretty dreadful, mock it openly.

The Inexorable Whims of a Summer Chicago Wind Pt.3

On it goes…

The Inexorable Whims of a Summer Chicago Wind

By Brian K. Jones

Part 3

It was pretty easy to sneak out of the hospital.  Around midnight while the nurses were changing shifts I took the IV out of my arm and found my clothes in the dresser.  I went down the elevator unnoticed and walked by the main admitting desk like I owned the place.  If you pretend you should be doing something everyone usually plays along.

Once I got out side I walked about of a quarter mile to a bar me and the guys from work sometimes frequented.  When I walked in the music stopped and I looked at all of the people and they looked at me.  The music started again and then they turned back to what they were doing.

I ordered up a craft and sat and sipped it for a while.  I made some small talk with the bartender and forgot that I was dying for a while.  I called up one of the guys from work and he said he would come down to meet me.  Good friends will always come and meet you when you really need them.

The Inexorable Whims of A Summer Chicago Wind Pt. 2

The Story Continues…

The Inexorable Whims of A Summer Chicago Wind(pt.2)

By Brian K. Jones

Part Two

 

There was work again the next day.  I went there with the same indifference I do pretty much every day now.  I used to get mad about the things that happened there and sometimes I’d get encouraged.  Now it was just like relieving myself, something I happened to do regularly.

The day went by like one of a thousand.  Nothing bad happened and nothing good happened.  It just kind of unfolded blandly. The only time I got excited was when I got to eat soup at my desk alone, no one bothered me.

After work I went down to the pub with guys.  We drank the crafts and talked about opening up our own brewing company.  This was a long running fantasy that seemed like it would never happen for a variety of reasons.  It was still fun to talk about.  People are always dreaming about things that won’t really happen.

The bartender was in her middle twenties and very attractive.  When she would ask me if I wanted another beer it seemed like she smiled and flirted with me a lot.  That made me feel really good until I saw her do it to everyone else.  Sometimes girls don’t know how manipulative they’re being.

I sipped at the crafts and we talked and joked for about an hour and a half.  Then some other guys came in, they were all handsome and sharply dressed.  The bartender gave them an extra dose of the flirts and I got depressed.  Not that I blamed her, I couldn’t compete with those guys.  People and circumstances are always making me feel bad about myself.

I excused myself from the fun and went back to the apartment.  I made a lean cuisine frozen pizza and ate about half of it; partly because it was gross and partly because I didn’t want to eat anything on account of having to compete with those handsome, fashionable guys.