Sunday, November 18, 2012

Roger's night out

Roger could not handle his drinks well. His head was swirling around and he was trying to make sense of the world. The hostess was talking kindly to him and was perhaps pointing at the dinner table. Maybe she had not realized that he was too drunk to understand he was drunk. "Ofcourse, my dear lady" giving her a smile which could mean anything but most probably did not mean anything. "Oh, what a pleasant Gentleman" thought the hostess. "He did not flirt with me and neither did he stare down my neck. Perhaps I should date him. A nice find!!" she thought while greeting her next guest.

Roger then proceeded to the drinks table. Not because he wanted another drink. He wanted to undrink himself. The bartender was too used to drunks like himself. He pointed out the restroom to Roger. "Thanks my Lord. I will be damned if you are not Jeeves the Butler. You can solve anything. I wanted to undrink myself and you pointed out the restroom!" Roger said. He continued towards the restroom but he was stopped by an anaconda or what he thought was an anaconda. The anaconda seemed to have that Brazilian dirt still hanging around its crease. Now Roger was an immaculately dressed gentleman and could not afford to get his party shirt dirty. He shied away from the anaconda. The anaconda slithered away from Roger as if he was a snake charmer. Snake charmer? Maybe. Or perhaps he was just some uninteresting individual with whom the anaconda had no chance of having any fun. It is anybody's guess that it could have been due to Roger's spectacles which gave the impression that any moment Roger could begin a discourse on some lengthy but inconsequential philosophical debate which hardly anybody else is interested in. It may have been tolerable during normal times but is quite boring during party hours. Anyways, by all accounts, the anaconda just slithered away to its next destination leaving Roger behind to complete his toilet formalities.

Roger decided to take a walk in the park. He was hoping that people did not realize he was finding it difficult to walk in a straight path. He was also finding it difficult to spell things. In this state, he would definitely find it tough to pass the third grade exam. Second grade would have been a breeze but not the third one. He noticed a random stranger singing a song to himself. Roger felt a weird bonding with the random dude as they were fellow co-habitants  of the park at that moment. Roger came close enough to the stranger to make sense of the wordings of the song. "Dont ignore me just cause I m ignorant. Save me from me. I m warning you. Its not best to leave it till its too late. Dont ignore my warning just cause I m an ignorant" went the song. "Makes sense" Roger thought to himself. Quite proud of his analysis of this song, Roger decided he had enough of the walk and went inside to the party hall.

Roger was still an immaculately dressed gentleman sitting in a corner during the function. His brain wasn't functioning too well because he had had one drink too many. The thoughts were getting intertwined and intermingled with one another. He could feel it. He had a feeling that everyone around him thought he was going crazy. And he could not blame them completely either. He was losing control of his faculties. But he wasn't crazy yet and he was not ready to give up yet. Roger knew there was still one last chance for redemption. But he thought that he might be going crazy. He was thinking of the Arabs who weren't too well dressed themselves but they did not leave any opportunity of making fun of him. Rogie Rogie they cried. Roger the Dodger was his nickname. Then the music started. It was slow to begin with, but then it got slower and slower. It got smoother and more refined, like high quality whisky. It got more rhythmic and slower till it got really exhausting. Too exhausting to handle. Till he fell fast asleep, Roger did.

And when he woke up the next morning, he was sober again. Just a slight hangover and embarrassment of sleeping over at someone else's place without notice. After that, there was nothing to write home about. It was just the drudgery of normal sober life. Until the next party happened. But that's another story.

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