When Life Starts Getting Old
Coping Mechanism
I lay sweating and out of breath, watching Nadia pack her suitcase. I wasn’t sure if she performed her usual show for me or the special extended version. Either way, I gave it five stars. Nadia finished packing and came over to my bed. She leaned over and gave me a long lingering kiss.
“Goodbye, Marley,” she whispered, walking away and out the door. I sat up on my elbows.
“Well, shit.” A smile broke across my lips and I shook my head in pure disbelief.
Sometime later, I got up and got dressed. It was nearly six in the evening. I happily bounced around singing my own version of Longview, “when masturbation’s lost its fun, Marley gets laid.” I laughed and slid my wallet into my back pocket. Leaving the hostel, I looked around. It was still too early for night life, but a perfect time to grab some dinner. I spotted a café a block away and headed towards it.
I seated myself at a half-and-half booth on the back wall. A waiter came over and took my drink order. I looked between the menu and the rest of the café. The mood was incredibly relaxed as people chatted contently between bites of beautifully prepared food. After placing my order, two girls came in and sat at the table beside me. They both had dark brown—almost black—hair and light caramel skin. The one diagonally in front of me had light blue eyes, while the other had dark brown. The blue-eyed girl kept glancing at me and whispered to her friend in Spanish. My year and a half of college Spanish only picked up “tonight” over the gentle din of the restaurant.
My food arrived and I ate slowly, still trying to take everything in. The girls continued to look over almost fanatically. It started to creep me out. As I was getting ready to leave, the girl beside me grabbed my arm.
“Would you like to meet us tonight, say, nine o’clock?” She asked sweetly in accented English.
“Um, where?” I inquired, perplexed.
“The Pearl. It’s a club not too far from here.”
“I’m not from here, so I don’t really know my way around.”
The girl pulled a pen out of her purse and gently took my hand. She wrote a phone number down and her name: Andrea.
“If you can’t find it, call me,” she winked, letting me go. I nodded, unsure of how I felt. I left the café and wandered around the streets of London, hands in my pockets. I strolled past many of the huge sights like the palace and Big Ben and the London Eye. By the time I began walking back toward the café and hostel, it was five til nine. I shrugged and picked up my pace slightly. I decided to stop into the café once more for a cup of tea, still a bit unsure as to whether I was going to meet Andrea and her friend at The Pearl.
I saw a girl sitting at the end of the bar inside the café. She was bent over a sketchpad, scribbling furiously, her long dark brown hair hanging down around her ears. Thick black glasses hung onto the end of her nose. I approached her cautiously, swinging into the stool beside her. I allowed my eyes to wander cautiously onto her notebook. She was drawing Parliament… flawlessly… from memory.
“Wow!” I blurted out, causing her to jump and gasp. She pushed her glasses up and looked at me. Her eyes were crystal blue behind the lenses and a turquoise stripe was woven through a loose braid in her hair.
“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you!” I apologized, covering up my mouth.
“You’re fine,” she sighed, looking back at her pad.
“That looks incredible.”
“Really? It could use a little work…”
“It looks like a photograph!”
“I guess it’s okay… you’re American, aren’t you?”
“Um… yes…”
“Just curious. I love your accent. My name is Casey.”
“Marley. I love your accent too.”
Casey laughed nervously, tugging on the sleeve of the off-the-shoulder shirt she was wearing.
“Can I get you anything to drink?” I asked her, leaning an elbow on the bar.
“Uh, no… No, I’m okay. Thank you.”
I nodded and sipped at my tea. She looked frantically at her sketch, trying to either figure out what to change or avoid making eye contact with me. I watched her out of the corner of my eye.
She seemed very timid and shy, unsure of what to do. I felt bad for making her nervous.
“Would you, uh, like to go to The Pearl with me tonight?” I asked her quietly.
“I should get going… Sorry, nice to meet you, Marley.” She stammered, scooping up her things and leaving quickly.
I sighed, defeated. I sat around and stared at the big antique clock hanging on the back wall of the bar. Once it struck ten o’clock, I decided to head to the Pearl. I asked the bartender for directions and left. Something inside of me hurt. It felt like I was empty inside my chest. It was rare that I was ever turned down by a girl. Even though I had been off the market for a while with Dianne, I remembered always being a bit of a stud in college and even in high school. It kind of hurt my ego to get denied by such a pretty and talented girl as Casey.
Rather than trying to find her or going back to my room at the hostel, I decided to drink the emptiness away. Andrea and her friend, Daniela, were still at The Pearl when I walked in, and were very happy to see me. They each bought me a drink and took me out onto the dance floor. After that, the night was a bit of a blur. The alcohol, loud music, and eventual weed smoking, offered a short-lived reprieve from my earlier rejection.
“Goodbye, Marley,” she whispered, walking away and out the door. I sat up on my elbows.
“Well, shit.” A smile broke across my lips and I shook my head in pure disbelief.
Sometime later, I got up and got dressed. It was nearly six in the evening. I happily bounced around singing my own version of Longview, “when masturbation’s lost its fun, Marley gets laid.” I laughed and slid my wallet into my back pocket. Leaving the hostel, I looked around. It was still too early for night life, but a perfect time to grab some dinner. I spotted a café a block away and headed towards it.
I seated myself at a half-and-half booth on the back wall. A waiter came over and took my drink order. I looked between the menu and the rest of the café. The mood was incredibly relaxed as people chatted contently between bites of beautifully prepared food. After placing my order, two girls came in and sat at the table beside me. They both had dark brown—almost black—hair and light caramel skin. The one diagonally in front of me had light blue eyes, while the other had dark brown. The blue-eyed girl kept glancing at me and whispered to her friend in Spanish. My year and a half of college Spanish only picked up “tonight” over the gentle din of the restaurant.
My food arrived and I ate slowly, still trying to take everything in. The girls continued to look over almost fanatically. It started to creep me out. As I was getting ready to leave, the girl beside me grabbed my arm.
“Would you like to meet us tonight, say, nine o’clock?” She asked sweetly in accented English.
“Um, where?” I inquired, perplexed.
“The Pearl. It’s a club not too far from here.”
“I’m not from here, so I don’t really know my way around.”
The girl pulled a pen out of her purse and gently took my hand. She wrote a phone number down and her name: Andrea.
“If you can’t find it, call me,” she winked, letting me go. I nodded, unsure of how I felt. I left the café and wandered around the streets of London, hands in my pockets. I strolled past many of the huge sights like the palace and Big Ben and the London Eye. By the time I began walking back toward the café and hostel, it was five til nine. I shrugged and picked up my pace slightly. I decided to stop into the café once more for a cup of tea, still a bit unsure as to whether I was going to meet Andrea and her friend at The Pearl.
I saw a girl sitting at the end of the bar inside the café. She was bent over a sketchpad, scribbling furiously, her long dark brown hair hanging down around her ears. Thick black glasses hung onto the end of her nose. I approached her cautiously, swinging into the stool beside her. I allowed my eyes to wander cautiously onto her notebook. She was drawing Parliament… flawlessly… from memory.
“Wow!” I blurted out, causing her to jump and gasp. She pushed her glasses up and looked at me. Her eyes were crystal blue behind the lenses and a turquoise stripe was woven through a loose braid in her hair.
“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you!” I apologized, covering up my mouth.
“You’re fine,” she sighed, looking back at her pad.
“That looks incredible.”
“Really? It could use a little work…”
“It looks like a photograph!”
“I guess it’s okay… you’re American, aren’t you?”
“Um… yes…”
“Just curious. I love your accent. My name is Casey.”
“Marley. I love your accent too.”
Casey laughed nervously, tugging on the sleeve of the off-the-shoulder shirt she was wearing.
“Can I get you anything to drink?” I asked her, leaning an elbow on the bar.
“Uh, no… No, I’m okay. Thank you.”
I nodded and sipped at my tea. She looked frantically at her sketch, trying to either figure out what to change or avoid making eye contact with me. I watched her out of the corner of my eye.
She seemed very timid and shy, unsure of what to do. I felt bad for making her nervous.
“Would you, uh, like to go to The Pearl with me tonight?” I asked her quietly.
“I should get going… Sorry, nice to meet you, Marley.” She stammered, scooping up her things and leaving quickly.
I sighed, defeated. I sat around and stared at the big antique clock hanging on the back wall of the bar. Once it struck ten o’clock, I decided to head to the Pearl. I asked the bartender for directions and left. Something inside of me hurt. It felt like I was empty inside my chest. It was rare that I was ever turned down by a girl. Even though I had been off the market for a while with Dianne, I remembered always being a bit of a stud in college and even in high school. It kind of hurt my ego to get denied by such a pretty and talented girl as Casey.
Rather than trying to find her or going back to my room at the hostel, I decided to drink the emptiness away. Andrea and her friend, Daniela, were still at The Pearl when I walked in, and were very happy to see me. They each bought me a drink and took me out onto the dance floor. After that, the night was a bit of a blur. The alcohol, loud music, and eventual weed smoking, offered a short-lived reprieve from my earlier rejection.