The winds of change were blowing, and I had decided to
harness the positivity I was feeling and commence spring cleaning. First on the chopping block: my job.
While it had financially sustained me for two and a half
years (and essentially paid for my apartment) it was time to make a break. The toxicity of my work environment had
finally taken its toll – I could be there no longer – at least without resorting
to some heavier drug.
I had recently stayed clean for thirty days (and earned a
chintzy keychain for my effort). Though
I was still smoking weed, the experience had shone a harsh light on the state
of my life and highlighted the need for drastic change.
As for weed – I was glad I had taken a break. I was even happier that I had asserted some
control, but for now, weed was simply too much fun. I would simply have to use it more
judiciously and stay watchful for signs of dependence.
This
brings me to the train, and why I was running late.
Owen
and Mitch were pissed with me – I could tell.
Our bumpy train ride punctuated by long silences and an awkwardness that
was rarely felt between the three of us.
It was understandable, and completely my fault of course – I had gotten
stoned the night before and forgot to set my alarm. Owen’s piercing eyes delivered a death glare
from behind his bristly beard.
I knew he wouldn’t stay mad
at me, he never could. In a few hours my
infraction would be all but forgotten.
Still tired, I yawned as I watched the sprawling urban decay of the
inner city speed past us on the train.
Today was important – I
could feel it intuitively.
***
“Welcome
to World Vegan Day!” read a large canvas banner that hung suspended between two
trees.
Owen,
Mitch and I stopped momentarily to take in the scenery. The Abbotsford convent was quite familiar to
us, but today it looked radically different.
Like an old lady in her Sunday best, the pristine grounds were bustling
with people. Farm animals roamed freely
about as onlookers approached them with reverence and awe.
We
had entered a vegan mecca – a rapturous congregation of like-minded individuals
who shunned animal products for reasons both dietary and ideological. Owen could barely contain his excitement as
he caught sight of a stall offering “meat free salami”. Overcome, he excitedly ploughed through the
crowd, headfirst into a teeming food hall offering socially conscious
snacks. Mitch and I followed, still
marvelling at the diverse array of hipsters, do-gooders and other un-showered
characters.
Realising
my good fortune, I reached into my pocket and extracted a hefty supply of Lord of
the Fries stickers Owen had given me earlier - to be handed out to only the
most attractive vegans.
***
“See
– I told you they would make one, see!?” exclaimed Owen, waving the candy bar
centimetres from my face.
Admittedly,
the vegan mars bar was pretty impressive.
Owen had recalled my earlier promise to convert if he could conjure a
vegan mars bar.
“Look! It’s right here in front of your face, you
can’t deny it anymore!”
“Okay,
okay I believe you I’ll buy some – how much are they?”
“Eight
dollars each” replied the hippie lady behind the counter.
“I’ll
take two…” I sighed. Vegan food was ethical,
but expensive.
“Dude,
this better be the best goddamn mars bar I ever ate” I said, staring at Owen as
I tore off the wrapper and bit into the expensive candy.
Owen
waited silently for my approval as I chewed,
“You
got lucky”
“Hey
who’s that?” queried Owen, his gaze
fixed upon a girl across the room. She
was short, with dark wavy hair, blue eyes and tiny freckles atop her nose. A normal girl by any standard – except for
the fact that she was talking to Mitch.
“Fuck
– Mitch’s found himself a woman already!
We’ve only been here a few minutes!” said Owen as we watched the two of
them converse. Smiles and furtive
glances were exchanged - the girl seemed genuinely pleased to see him.
“Maybe
they know each other?”
The
girl and Mitch began moving towards us, I turned my head to Owen, but he had already
abandoned me to sample vegan cheesecake.
I rushed over to him before Mitch and his mystery girl could catch up.
“Dude,
Mitch and that girl are coming over – don’t make a big deal out of it
okay. Just be cool”
Owen
nodded his compliance, his mouth full of Tofu pumpkin pie.
“Hey
Man” came Mitch’s voice, I turned to see him and the girl in question smiling
sweetly. I paused a moment, waiting for Mitch
to introduce his new friend.
Nothing.
“Watcha
tasting?” he asked, oblivious.
“Errrr…vegan
cheesecakes and stuff. Be careful dude,
they’re like eighty dollars”
With
that, Mitch and his dark haired woman breezed past me and continued to peruse
the many tables of pricey vegan cuisine.
I watched him and his elusive woman disappear into the crowd looking
quite friendly indeed.
Owen’s
rabid tasting frenzy momentarily satiated, we decided it was high time for
lunch. I joined a lengthy queue for
Samosas where Mitch and the girl in question were patiently waiting.
“This
is Avery” he said finally, proudly presenting his elfin companion.
Avery
was probably the first real life hippie that I had ever met. Her dark wavy hair cascaded over her
shoulders in a carefree manner, and she emitted an undefeatable positivity that
was instantly appealing. Our lengthy
wait for food over, the four of us got to talking, Owen and Avery bonding over
their shared veganism and sense of moral outrage regarding the state of the
palm sugar industry.
I
had to admit – she was pretty cool. A
volunteer worker, and well versed in the realms of fitness, nutrition and
social justice, I relished her intelligent conversation.
After
we had finished eating, Avery offered to take us on a tour of the convent
itself. The adjacent building was in
fact a functioning nunnery. Its gothic
architecture and dilapidated state made it a prime candidate for ghost
hunting. Boldly, we entered like a newly
minted Scooby gang, brazenly walking through areas where elderly residents
occupied themselves with knitting, card games and staring blankly.
Clearing
a giant stairwell, we walked through the dimly lit halls, the afternoon sun
barely penetrating the heavy stained glass windows. There was an eerie stillness to the place –
the four of us were intruders, yet we had walked in and begun exploring without
a trace of security present.
Reaching
the upper level, we found that parts of the convent had been turned into a
makeshift community centre. Empty rooms
with whiteboards and raggedy sign-up sheets offered bizarre free classes like
“Communism for beginners” and “Learn to whistle”.
Unnerved
by our surreal surroundings and irritated by a lack of spectral appearances, we
halted our ghost hunting to retire to a large tree that Avery insisted that we
‘absolutely had to see’.
The
tree was indeed giant, standing five or six meters tall with a mighty base and
strong, sturdy branches that implored me to climb them. Avery made a valiant attempt, as we watched a
small child fearlessly reach the summit.
Owen’s protestations kept me firmly grounded as he painted an imaginary
scenario in which I fell and broke my spine.
The
four of us sat in the grass at the base of the tree talking for what seemed
like hours. The scene was practically
idyllic as we gratefully took in the sunlight and scented air that emanated
from the convent’s perfectly maintained rose garden.
After
ample time getting to know our new friend, it was time for me to go – my
traditional Sunday dinner with the parentals awaited as did a glacial trip home
on public transport. I said my goodbyes
and began my journey home listening to Madonna.
I only had a week of work left, and it excited me. Things were bound to get better.
SIX
HOURS LATER
It
was late on a Sunday night as I switched off the TV and decided it was time to
go to sleep. It had been a good day, I
thought to myself, now consciously trying to acknowledge the positive things
that happened to me. I had had a fun day
out with my friends, met a cool new chick and had dinner with the folks. Exhausted, I steeled myself for my final week
or work and the undiscovered country of unemployment that awaited.
Imagine
my surprise when I heard a knock on the door.
I cautiously
peered through the eyehole to see Mitch standing there, nervously shuffling his
feet. As soon as I opened the door, Mitch
burst in and began a confusing tirade about why he was here so late at night.
“Dude,
she asked me to stay the night!” he puffed; he looked as though he had run
here.
“Who
did?” I asked, immediately confused.
“Avery!”
“Who? Oh the chick from today. Well what are you doing here?”
“I
don’t know!”
“Well
get back there!!”
“It’s
too late I can’t!”
I
sat down on the couch, unsure of what was happening.
“Maybe
you should start at the beginning” I offered slowly as Mitch began to calm down
and fill me in on what had happened after I had left World Vegan Day.
Owen
and Mitch had remained; hanging about to meet some friends of Avery’s who were
there to pick her up. Brandy was a raven
haired new age beauty and Cooper, her boyfriend, a tough guy with perfect
skin. Coincidentally, Owen knew Cooper
from years past – they had both suffered employment at Dominoes pizza.
After
briefly conversing with Cooper, Owen had gone home, leaving Mitch free to
accept an invitation to hang out with Avery, Brandy and Cooper. The three of them went back to Avery’s house
where he met Lionel, her unstable but well-meaning house mate. A night of television and flowing conversation
followed until Brandy and Cooper excused themselves leaving Mitch and Avery
alone. Finally detecting a not so subtle
set up, Mitch pulled himself up by his bootstraps and faced his anxiety around
girls head on, even making it as far as Avery’s bedroom. Never one to mince words, Avery soon invited Mitch
to spend the night, triggering a tidal wave of hormonal self-doubt and
uncertainty. He quickly made a flimsy
excuse to leave and rushed over to my house for advice on what to do next.
Mitch
breathed out deeply as the last line of his story left his body.
“So
that’s it” he said as he threw his hands up and waited expectantly for me to
dispense sage advice.
I
sat there for a moment, absorbing the details of his bizarre tale. I wondered why Mitch wanted advice from me of
all people, but then I realised it was simply what guys did. Asking a pathetic single friend for
relationship advice is a rite of passage for men of all ages.
Mitch
had never had a stellar history with women.
Often too timid to make the first move, his romantic history was patchy
and filled with missed opportunities and dysfunctional older women. He had finally overcome his anger at all of
womanhood and met a girl he actually liked.
One with whom he had a genuine chemistry and interest in and who clearly
looked at him with great affection. In Mitch’s
mind the pressure was on. Pressure to do
and say the right thing, pressure to not fuck it up.
Unwilling
to return to Avery’s bedroom (I even offered to drive him), Mitch and I stayed
up for an hour or so talking about the night’s events. Endless permutations and contingencies
swirled about his head as he insisted on examining what seemed like twenty or
thirty ‘what if?’ scenarios. I tried my
best to keep him from overanalysing and convinced him to reaffirm his interest
in the girl quickly by sending her a follow up text message the next day.
Leaving
him in his customary spot sleeping on my living room floor, I finally climbed
into bed, somehow certain of what was bound to transpire.
“So
it’s finally happened” I thought, drifting off to sleep “Mitch has a
girlfriend”.
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