Let Out, Let Go

Back from the hospital after an hour of small talk, M tries to find a parking space near the canteen while I stand around making more of small talk. A long gone friend once told me that it was not my burden to keep everyone around me from getting bored. May be I would accept it someday and learn to keep mum, but, for now, I talk some.

I notice Smokey Eyes' (SE) tee through the window pane. She is inside. The red tee looks good, looks good on her. And then I see Fluorescent Adolescent (FA) sitting opposite to her, and then the two guys sitting by them. No, M hasn't yet seen what I see, but I feel the making of a disaster in the air.

I look around and make small talk about the menu items, comment on how they have only Pepsi every day, and more of this and that. M isn't listening to me now, that means he too has probably seen FA having lunch with another guy. As far as I could recall, it was only yesterday when FA was too busy to spend some time with M. I feel sorry for him. M is wearing a blank expression, I am a little angry at him and his persistence with FA too but I realize I am supposed to be just sorry right now. I act accordingly.

A minute later FA leaves hastily, as if been caught stealing, trying to call someone frantically, but clearly not calling anyone. The rest of the group follows her out. 'Terrible day', M manages to say something finally, J at hospital clearly playing on his mind too. Nice of him.

I realize I am a little sorry to see SE with another guy, but what soothes me is the fact that she doesn't know about my little crush on her. She isn't running me over or anything. Also I realize it is more about seeing her with another guy than her not being with me. Kind of jealousy, more of narcissism. May be it's M, not me, who needs someone to talk to right now, or at least my selfishly generous small-talk-side thinks so.

Over lunch we talk about the usual stuff- dope, masturbation techniques, merits and demerits of circumcision, pronunciation jokes, how firemen are overrated and nurses are totally not, South Park and Seinfeld, Shining and Jack Nicholson, a little bitching too; the regular boys' stuff in short.

The fullness of stomach and nothingness of mind lead us to the cigarette shop eventually. Not sure about the brand suiting the mood, we settle on the new king size Navy Cut, the duotec filter clearly dominating the thoughts of the the red and fluorescent tees by now. Soon we settle in the bright hot sun looking at the sparse traffic, watching people getting to somewhere, some of them making frantic calls.

I let out a puff and watch it go nowhere; I don't feel like talking now.