TGIF is a place where some of us commune in order to let out our work aggressions. The clanking of beer classes getting steamed, ready for the next customer searching for their drink specials.
For me, though, it’s a place where I learn. I sit in my usual chair, the music is muffled due to voices carrying on merrily.
Although I generally have a lot to say, these trips consist of friends bestowing their relationship knowledge…or rather we can be candid here and say “bitching”.
I’ve listened to a woman, complain about the man she wished would love her.
My ears have been exposed to the same complaints but vice versa.
But, the most intriguing part is the male perspective.
The same man cried on my shoulder once, and I wiped his tears away.
He was in love, once. It always hurt me to see him upset about this woman, because I never understood what being in love was like. I used to just glaze my eyes over, and day dream about my body being connected to my bed. My feet were always sore after work.
Recently, he has new stories to tell. About the women that he sees on an after midnight basis.
or used to see, rather.
Of course, they fall for him. Someone they can’t have. Someone they’d like to change, but I sit there. On my bar stool, listening. Quietly learning.
He cares about them, clearly. Likes their character, a few critiques about their amorous exchanges. But, it never fails.
I mean, who would really turn away a woman’s affection. No matter the situation. Maybe a small chance to see if it would work out, but realizing later that it doesn’t work. Continuing it on, only to hope that it gets better. The trap most marriages fall into. “Being stuck”, as they say.
An exchange, if you will.
After a couple of drinks, a distant look appears in his eyes. He eventually thinks back to the woman who holds his heart, and she lies with someone else.
I asked him once, why he entertains someone that he doesn’t care for.
He simply replied that he did, but he could never love her the way she loved him.
And then, it hit me. One sided relationships exist in the adult world. Is there always one person holding onto the strings, pulling the other person. In my experience, it’s never really an even exchange. I don’t believe in it, really. Love, to me, is a silly theory made for those who allow emotions to rule their lives. Occasionally, strong ones succumb but then their resolve changes afterwards. I digress.
Either way, the bustling of the evening shift became soothing.
For some reason, problems dissolved in the salty spinach dip and the taste of cheap beer.