Shit to Gold.

14 November 2008 @ 02:53 pm

“Everything looks foggy. 

It’s my contacts, I don’t see anything clearly anymore.”

“Who does really”

And we cheers our beers and took a swig.

3:24am on the Blue Line. Earlier in the night I tried to hail a cab after overdrawing my account to find a way to get home from Logan Square, but failed. A taxi stopped for a moment and as I started walking over, it zoomed away. Screw this. I walked towards the California blue line not caring how long it took me to get home, only that I wanted to never set foot in a cab again. The same taxi drove by again and as I heard a muffled “Hey you need a ride?” I stepped into the doors of the blue line station.

Fuck that cab.

I walked up the stairs and found my isolated spot underneath some shelter on the platform. In circles, that’s all I am doing. I’m already at the California stop and taking the blue line to Chicago Ave. would only make me go in circles. Where the hell am I going? Home, no ones waiting, theres no deadline, no timestamp, so fuck it.

Standing there I heard what could’ve been the train coming as it was so loud, but instead I saw a person stumbling towards me.

Awkward.

Just him and I, under this slightly roofed platform, probably both wondering what the other was doing at this time on a Thursday. Attempting not to make contact in these situations is my weakness as I pretended to be busy on my cell phone, trying not to look over.

What am I doing? Where am I?

Everything was about to start crashing as my eyes felt the warm swelling of tears trying to break through, not for the first time in the last 24 hours.

All thoughts stopped as I saw an Old Style poking at my side followed by a smile from the stranger next to me. 

“You have to be kidding me.”

“That’s just how it is, you know?”

“Thanks.”

Silence again. 

I attempted to start my cellphone routine again but shoved it back into my pocket. After about a minute of no conversation, just drinking silently, I hear a faint but pointed, “What are we doing here?”

I lost it.

Laughing and crying at the same time I told him, “I have no clue.” Parroting the same line, “I guess that’s just how it is, ya know?”

The sound of an oncoming train roared and we walked onto the almost empty car.

“Im Brad, ” hand shake,

“Im Corey, ” hand shake.

“I’m not some sort of creep…I have a girlfriend.”

“Haha, it’s cool, I have a boyfriend.”

“I guess this is just two people having beers on the blue line.”

“Just beers.”

Silence and calmness overcame the rest of my memories and thoughts on the night. The simplicity of the occasion made everything seem alright for that moment in time.

We talked about the city, the city kids, what do you do? Where do you go to school? How is that working for you?

good. good.

Small talk that hits home more than normal conversations.

Where are you getting off? Chicago? Aren’t you going in circles? I guess I am. Why? Why not, I have nowhere to be. I’m getting off at Chicago too, I’ll keep you company at the bus stop.

Of course the 66 bus takes almost a full half hour. Other late night bus waiters sipped from brown bags and nodded in some unsaid approval.

“How old did you say you are?”

“19.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really”

“Really?”

“Ha yes, really.”

My sister is two years older than you. I could never talk to her like this. Maybe because she’s your sister?

“No, you don’t give yourself enough credit.”

“What?”

You don’t give yourself enough credit. I can tell the difference between bullshiting and just not giving yourself enough credit, cmon, let me hear you say it.

Okay.

No, actually say it.

Say it.