So my last post is cryptic and scary. Let me let you in on some context:
Yesterday was a day like many of my other drifting summer days. Maia and I went and sat at The Woods cafe for a long time and shot the air, and then we parted ways just in time for happy hour at Casa. When I got there I ordered a set of bean and cheese taquitos and a Lazy Boy. I read and laughed over a good chunk of David Cross’ new book and then bumped into a couple guys I know, Kevin (Kristy’s ex-boyfriend) and Jaimie (a man I had a Fairhaven art class with). Rachel came and joined us at our table and after a while they took off on a bike ride, saying that they would join up with us later if that was okay. We said sure.
After two beers at Casa we went off to the Up, which just happened to be closed because it was Labor Day. Instead we went to Cap’s, a bar we don’t go to (I’ve only been there once before). Once there Rachel and I shared a pitcher and talked about big important things like school, graduation, the future, jobs, blah blah, (it was actually a very good and cathartic heart-to-heart, let me just say, but this post isn’t about that) and then Kevin and Jaimie dropped in. Before they dropped in I got a call from Kevin double-checking on our whereabouts and also asking if Rachel had a boyfriend. I said yes and that I was sorry. He seemed forlorn, sighed, and replied, “That’s okay, she’s just so beautiful,” which is sweet but started the overwhelming theme of the evening. Once they were there we talked and all was well. As a table we shared maybe two more pitchers, then Rachel and I got a couple whiskey shots, and altogether we left for a change of scenery. The boys decided on home while Rachel and I decided on Casa again.
On the way there we had a grand old time singing together t0 El Scorcho by Weezer, but we seemed to have forgotten one of the verses. That was completely unacceptable so we stopped into Everyday Music which was miraculously open. Once inside we found the CD and asked the clerk is we could please listen to it, at which point he opened it up right in front of us with a razor and popped it into a player. Incredible! What service! (And I am not being sarcastic.) We started the track and sang it together, happily recalling the lyrics we had missed (”Watching Grunge leg-drop New-Jack through a press table, And then my heart stopped, Listening to Cio-Cio San, Fall in love all over again”). Laughing, I took off the headphones and looked around to see that we are the only two people in the store and the clerk is laughing at us. Slightly embarrassed, I explained that we were drunk and simply had to listen to that song, and thank you so much for letting us, and by the way: where is your Nina Simone section? He showed it to me and recommended a live album called At The Village Gate so I bought it and a postcard for Evan (I am listening to the album now and am glad I took his advice). He and I laughed at Rachel who in the meantime was blissfully rocking out to some other Weezer track and had acquired the hiccups. After the track was done we left to go to Casa.
Which was closed! Rachel called Arlo who came to the door saying that since it was so slow they locked the doors early. We told him we would go to the Shoe and he said that right when he got done cleaning up in the back he would join us. Once at the Shoe we walked in with intentions of buying Nicoraguans for ourselves but found we didn’t have to because an ex-roommate of Rachel’s named Nick decided to take one with us and buy the whole round which was very nice of him. Once the shots were done I asked Rachel if she wanted to step outside to keep me company during my ciggarette. There was a regular-looking group of strange folk, one of whom was very clearly a Filipino man who started talking to us. At first it was very nice and I was able to keep him talking about Filipino foods that we both missed and Tagalog phrases and such things, but soon enough he was telling us all sorts of things about his life, like he has to friends and he is a devout Catholic and why don’t we go back in for a drink together? Rachel and I, a little concerned by then, say sure. Once inside he is talking to us and the waitress comes over to ask us for our IDs and our orders, but he blithely interrupts her with a very rude, “Hey, I’m talking to my friends. I’ll talk to you when I’m ready.” Rachel and I exchange glances, realizing that this man is getting stranger. The girl turns around and lickety-split a different woman bartender comes over and says to the man, “Hey, I kicked you out earlier tonight. You’re not allowed to be in here.” He denies it and says he is trying to have a drink with his good friends, us. Rachel and I exchange another significant glance. I say to the bartender at the same time that Rachel does, “This is your bar, if he was kicked out then you should make good on that, don’t let us stop you.” For whatever reason though she just walks away. Right when she goes the man starts talking about what a bitch she is and thank God we’re his friends and why don’t we go over to his place after this drink? I say, “I need to go to the bathroom, don’t you Rachel?” “Yup.” Together we walk to the bathroom, and once inside we say together, ”Let’s leave.” We speed walk out the front and once outside take off into a sprint. “Cap’s!” We both say, and run there hoping that we aren’t pursued.
Once in Cap’s we buy a couple of pints of PBR and look around to find a place to sit. It’s very crowded and so we are forced to sandwich ourselves between two groups of men (both groups have a lady with them, so we weren’t too worried). We call Arlo; he says he’ll be there soon. We exclaim over the crazy encounter we just had and casually slip into conversation with a neighbor-table on our right. From my left I get a tap on the shoulder and I look over to see a very tall, large man wearing dark clothing and who has a lazy eye has scooted up to me. He looks a bit older. I want to say he was somewhere between 28 and 32. “May I sit here?” he says. I see that another person has joined their table, so he has to or I have to move to a different spot entirely. “Sure.”
He starts talking to me. I don’t remember about what, but it was all very innocent and mostly about movies from what I can recall. He’s getting closer all the time, and I am feeling really awkward. How do I end the conversation? He grabs my hand and says he loves me, that I’m beautiful, that he thinks I’m really smart, and again he loves me. Uh oh. And arlo arrives! Yes! I get up purposefully and hug him, whispering in his ear, “This man next to me is getting scary. I might need your help soon.” Arlo sees him and says immediately, “Just say what and when.” I sit back down and in my same seat, deciding that maybe with Arlo’s presence the man, Keith is his name, will be less forward. Keith says, “I want to buy you a drink, my favorite drink. Can I buy you a Nightcap?” I am going to take a moment and say that to my drunk and naive self (naive because I did not know that a Nightcap is an actual drink name; Wikipedia tells me that “A nightcap is an alcoholic beverage drunk right before going to sleep. The alcohol content is higher than a wine or beer drink, usually a liqueur or spirit. Traditional nightcaps are brandy or a cream-based liqueur such as Irish cream”) the idea of a drink named a Nightcap from a man I am finding overbearing and dominant both physically and verbally just seems like another name for a Rufi. He gets up to go buy the drinks. There is a line at the bar so I take this opportunity to fill Rachel and Arlo in on the scenario and my feelings about it. They agree that things are getting weird. They are in the middle of drinks, why don’t we leave right after them? Okay.
Keith sits down and says that he wasn’t able to get the Nightcaps. His reason is mumbled and I couldn’t hear him and didn’t pursue it. I turn away with a, “That’s quite all right!” and try talking to Arlo and Rach. He has grabbed my hand again. I say I’m going to the bathroom. While in there I text Arlo to scoot into Keith so I don’t have to be directly next to him anymore. Arlo agrees. I get out and sit away from Keith. I look forward at Rachel and ignore his stare. After a little while Keith gets up, comes over to me, and grabs my hand again. He explains that he is leaving, but he loves me and thinks I’m incredible. I say it’s good to meet him. He loves me. “Goodbye,” I say.
After he walks out the door a wave of relief hits me and I ramble about how uncomfortable that all was. Last call is announced and my companions say they’ll leave after their drinks yet again, which they are tending to very slowly. Drinkless, I decide to go outside to smoke my last ciggarette. People are walking up and down the street but I am by myself outide of Caps. Suddenly though Keith is there. Where did he come from? Was he waiting? Needless to say I was immediately defensive. He says, “Maryann, I am in love with you. You are so beautiful. I have no friends. You were so nice to me,” and etcetera. He grabs my hand again. I shake loose. He asks me to sit with him. I say I’d rather stand. He insists and puts his hand on my shoulder. I say I don’t sit and smoke. He kneels down. “I want you to kneel,” he says. No. He is talking about my beauty and his love for me. I can’t decide if I want to simply throw my ciggarette away and go inside or if I should slowly smoke it so that he remains on the ground not touching me. I toss my ciggarette away and explain I have to join my friends again. I begin to walk. He grabs my shoulder. He is taller than me, and his lazy eye frightens me (even as it does I feel guilty for the feeling; what does that mean?). He is telling me I should go home with him. I am fearful. Rachel and Arlo come out of the bar, and Rachel puts her hands and my shoulders and leads me away. “We have to go home right now.” I glance over and see Arlo is already in his car that is parked right in front (he only had one drink since he had just gotten off of work). I begin to leave without saying goodbye. Keith is saying that he wants to see me again, he loves me. We drive away. Arlo is speeding, thank goodness.
What would have went down if Arlo didn’t have his car? Would he have tried to follow us home? I think I would have gone to Rachel’s place to stay with her, her roommates and Arlo. That’s two more women and a man than I have here at home where it would have been just Maia and I. I wouldn’t want to get her involved. Was he waiting for me outside the bar? I won’t know for sure, but I think he was.
I thank Arlo and Rachel for the ride and right when I get inside I get a call from Evan. I tell him everything, and he calms me. Eat something really yummy, get into pajamas, hang out with Maia and watch something silly on the television. Call me any time, he says. I love him so much.
Once off the phone I am feeling chatty still. I think my adrenaline was still coursing. I ramble about the evening to Maia and realize that I own memories and experiences that many people in the world will never know because I am a small woman (slightly pretty and maybe a bit too friendly sure that’s all a part of it, but my gender is what it really comes down to). I am feeling bad because something about Keith was telling me he was somehow mentally disabled maybe, but what if that is just me making inferences because he had a lazy eye? What if nothing was wrong with him and he knew exactly what he was doing? The feeling I have is strange: very fearful with a tinge of guilt. But no, I’m not going to feel guilty anymore. Deep down my intuition told me to be frightened of him and I was and I won’t appoligize for that anymore. I can’t afford to. And so that was what I meant by feeling like prey.
