08 June 2005

Mid Point Crisis

"Bmpd n2 ***** .
Told me u r dpresd.
Meet up?"

That's the text message I got on my phone. It's from the Dude. Since I haven't hooked up with the guy for awhile, I sent a message to meet up in my fave bar.

Once I got to *****, the bartender immediately makes me my favorite drink, orange juice and vodka. The Dude hasn't arrived yet but I know most of the people there and I whiled away the time making bar talk.

Thrid Vodka and OJ and I was talking to this guy about a bar in Bangkok where they were serving Chicken in a Basket (don't ask, it's Bangkok...), I get a tap on the shoulder. It's the Dude.

"Wassup!", he says, all smiles.

"Nothing much"

The Dude takes the stool beside me and orders a coffee. The bartender already knowing his order, has cup in hand and places it in front of him. Dude smiles and thanks the person.

"Well, I think it's the blue moon because I heard that you feel down. Oh, and I've been visiting your blog. Specially about our conversations. You kind of change some of the situations though. Like, I don't remember grabbing your drink when I said I apologized to ****", he says while picking the hair above his ear.

"It's called artistic license. I mean, I have to make it interesting and have it end with a punch. I mean, if i ended the story with you saying it while you were hunched over the bar with your head in your arms, that would be a lame ending. Know what I mean?", I tell him.

"Well, also, when did I become the dude? You're the Dude. You know that.", he mutters while taking a sip of his coffee.

"Again, artistic license. So what's up with you?"

The dude then goes off about how everything is going ok with him and his girlfriend. How he's being patient and understanding of all the things she does. blah blah blah. blah blah blah.

He asks me what's bothering me.

And I tell him, "Well, my birthday is coming up and I'll be near forty. And still, I feel I act like a friggin' retard! I try to be mature and stuff but it just doesn't fit me. When I was 15 or so, I keep imagining myself as a mature guy talking about the stock market, business, world affairs and stuff. But look at me! Pretending I'm one of the cool guys. Pining for World of Warcraft Philippines! Hanging out at bars every night (granted, it's my job). blah, blah, blah. Is this what 37 is all about?".

The dude looks at me. "You have it going all aces. I mean, I would really want to change places with you. I mean, barring this 'I'm old, I'm old crap', you know what you want and are not ashamed of it. You are how you look." He takes a deep breath and says, "That's why YOU are the dude, not me."

I drink up the rest my drink. I look at him and wonder what the hell his whole point was.