Life Through a Wineglass

It was not yet winter when I met the man himself, but the chilling breeze already bit to the bone. At least, that is what others said. I for one was never bothered by fierce cold. It was in a small diner in which I first encountered him. Curiously, it was he, not I, who was seeking the other. His name was in print and known, but I was sought. It was the way of things at that time in his life I suppose. He was in need of some sort of companion; a proverbial shoulder to lean on if you will. And whether or not I wanted to assume this role of balancing his life, I sat down across from him nonetheless. The first meal we ate in revered silence. He realized I was there, and I him. We ordered, we ate, we paid on separate checks, and we parted our own ways. Yet I knew he took some comfort from this, and I could not help but to reappear the following week at the same diner, same time. Again, he was already seated, so I assumed the chair opposite. He ordered spaghetti. Strange it is, that I remember each and every meal he ate; yet I could not tell you once what I ate in those few months. Often I wonder if the same is true with him. Did he eat with the same determination to understand a stranger simply through his eating habits? Perhaps it is absurd to ask another being to pay that much attention to you, but I gave him my interest nonetheless. By the fourth week, we had yet to exchange words, much less meet gazes, but we paid on one bill. I could see him very clearly now. His clothes were slightly worn, wrinkled, and in need of proper ironing. It was evident that his wife, for he was of age to be wed, no longer held any infatuation with him, and thus, had handed him over to me. One night, I remember, I spent the entire hour of our meal staring at his hands, in an attempt to gauge the wear on them, and to procure some clue of his livelihood. Failing this, I simply went back to watching him eat. One meal, after we parted our ways, I was temped to follow in the distance, to find out where this acquaintance of mine slept for the night. But I rejected this notion; there was no need to know anymore about him than I already did. In fact, it is safe to say that I knew this man better than those who would call themselves his friends. You can learn a lot of a man’s character simply by way of observation, a step that most pass by in their own impatience to engage in the more physical aspects of relationships. But the value of observation was never lost on me. In fact, often I spent the entire meal, not taking a bite, but staring at this individual’s face, trying to catch a glance into his eyes, to see how far they went. But this never occurred. It wasn’t that he avoided my gaze; he simply had no need or reason to return my stare. Whereas I got my contentment from living his life in reverse, he drew his from dining with another being who did not question or criticize him. It was around the middle of the second month, I believe, when our first and only words were exchange. There was some sort of wine special that night, and we each had gotten a glass of the same aged import. “Good wine’” He said simply and to the point, at no one in particular, although both of us knew I was the target of his comparative outburst. I simply nodded, staring at his fingers as they caressed the narrow glass, still intent on my quest to judge the wear on his hands.

It was not until the end of the third month, January now, that I realized exactly who he was. His name was familiar to me when I remembered it, for it was in print, as I said earlier. He was a waning author who had a few bestsellers under his belt, but his latest ventures had been a flop. Walking to the diner that night, I began to piece together what I knew about him, now that his name was familiar to me. His wife had not thrown him out recently, but rather many years ago, and he never attempted to remarry or clean himself up any. He seemed disillusioned with the world; one would take him for a drunkard; had any alcohol actually passed his lips. I don’t remember why I knew this at the time, just that I had been told one day that he had finally gotten divorced after an unhappy marriage that had gotten all too popular with the TV-watching public. Doing some math in my head, I figured this had been in my early childhood, so why I remembered it so vividly is beyond me. After a quarter of an hour walking in the snow, I arrived at the diner for my final dinner with him. I sat down and ordered, he ordered some chicken meal that night, and we began our meal just as we had done for the past months, in complete silence. But just as I watched his muscles as he chewed, our eyes finally, and inadvertently, met. There was an unconscious exchange in that gaze, a final understanding between two comrades. I finally, fully understood him, and perhaps if I was lucky, he saw me as well. After a minute or so, we both looked down and finished our meal, and as tradition dictated, we parted out ways in the blustery snowy wind. And that was the last I ever saw of my father...

Hope you all enjoyed. I spent about... 45 minutes on it I guess. A job well done I believe.

I scanned this at first,then went back and really read it---You reached me! You are very gifted with words.

Hmmm...2write? Why not...

Osca' at first I though you were gay......I Finally got to the end and decided you should stick to drawing. HA! >;} How's that for humor !
Actually this was well written, long and slow moving, yet well done none the less.

nice job... and not nice sincity..

Thank you everyone. More to come in the future, I'm sure.
EDIT: And yeah, it does seem kind of gay throughout now that I think about it lol

very nice! i'd like to hear more of your stories! :D

It was good. I enjoyed it.

Same here.

yeah. i like this . but i already told you that when you showed it to me awhile back. XD You spelled tempted wrong. an i think there is a grammar error in the first sentence. you said ".... met the man himself" i think there should be a comma between 'man' and 'himself' because you can't put a noun and a noun right by each other in a sentence or a noun and a pronoun. i think there are soem exceptions for that rule, so i'm not quite sure if its correct or not.

I enjoyed it too. Unlike some people, I thought you were a girl narrating this story. lol Then I noticed you weren't as I read others' comments. Oops. hehe And another wrong assumption: I thought the man you described was your mate or just a man you longed to be with. lol (What? I thought it was sweet!)
Then the puzzle was all pieced together for me as I read the end sentence. lol Great story!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You're not very analytical ,are you cordelia?

Unfortunately, no. But I did get the whole story!! *flashes 2 thumbs up* (Hey, YOU'RE not YOUR! ha! caught your spelling error! muahahahaha I just hate it when people get those two mixed up.)

What you talking about? I haven't mant any spelling error's(mixed pair or whatever)

You know, in the wiki there is a place where you can do collab stories etc..that might be fun for you.

Why don't you write a short story or a novel. It shouldn't be be to hard for u to do. U could write about Zolof, pogoMan, And Cajun man geting an apartment togeather in the city.

derrick. that was a short story you just read.

Why can't it be called 2Wiki instead of 2Draw Wiki or something? lol 2wiki or not 2wiki? that is the question.

A fine point Dagan. You took the words right from my mouth. Hmm... A Herpes and Zoloft novel... Genius Derrick, genius.

Don't forget hemorriods!

I'm sorry.....to lazy to read. J/K Anyway I liked it. A lot of work for only 45 minutes... but hey I'm a lazy drunk so at lest your doing something. XD

nice story,,,some big words too... like "the" lol