So I’m talking to my friend Greg. Him for whom each new girl was, “Real ” at least for a weekend, although most weekends for him were spent taking a rest from life and romance, until he met his wife Sandra,that is, when the clouds cleared briefly, before he settled down for a career in domestic servitude. I mean who needs too much intensity anyway, and he seemed happy enough living by someone else’s agenda. We all like a little fun but now he looked down in the dumps, even by his humbling standards, and then it got worse.
“Do you believe in Hope?” he asked me, and I’m telling you, there is nothing worse than an introspective depressive, unless you are talking a drunk introspective depressive or the final challenge, a drunk introspective depressive talking to his oldest friend, which is what I am, about philosophy
I mean normally what’s not to like: he’s “One of the pack,” good to know, buys his round, loyal to a fault, and that pretty much defines friendship in my book. He has failings: he’s clever, but in that wasted “Off the wall” way that teachers don’t recognise, and girls always seemed put off by his outsized chin, till he met Sandra, that is, but then we can’t all be floored by inner beauty can we, and she’s no oil painting herself, and if she were an oil painting, she’d require a pretty big frame if you’re hearing me. But I’m straying from the point again. The question he posed was, “Do you believe in hope?” and do you know what kind of people ask that question? The people who don’t feel any.
Lets talk solid here. You don’t get a guy walking out for the best night ever with a girl who adores him on his arm, clutching a winning lottery ticket saying “Do you believe in hope?” because those people are too busy having fun to talk philosophy. Philosophy is for miserable people making an excuse for not having fun, or being passed over for promotion or just passed over: period, and that I suppose pretty much defines our Greg.
Still, I don’t want to leave the guy drowning on his own so I ask him, “Are we talking deep- space hope or just “Will I get a holiday?” hope, because, deep-space wise, life’s just a black hole Greg, and I snort a load of beer down my shirt because, lets hang out the truth here, I can be funny.
OK, more truth, Greg wasn’t laughing so I asked him what his problem was and he said, “It’s all deep space to me Fred, and Sandra’s left me” and there you have it. He’s” Clever in a wasted way” and so I raise my glass and give him the only advice I have to give. “While there’s beer there’s hope and I’ll keep drinking as long as you buy the rounds” and he walks off to the bar without a word. After all, what are friends for!
Brilliant:)
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The size of our hope is so often bounded by the depth of our friendships. 🙂
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and maybe he just needed that ray of that hope, even if it was shining out from the bottom of a pint, sitting with an old friend.
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I love this 🙂
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You persist in astounding us with the written word, Peter. It’s always a delight to wake up and see you’ve been creating delectable stories over there while I have been embracing sweet Morpheus over here.
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I love your definition of Philosophy, Peter, pure genius! A great tale of friendship and wishing life delivered!
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Where there’s beer there’s hope…one of the many lines to remember in this one Peter!
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The sacrifices you make for friendship. Pint after pint after pint. Noble of spirit you are!
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That’s some pub, your local – full of fascinating characters 🙂
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Oh poor old Greg! Love it! 😊
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“He’s clever n a waste way” can describe so many people I’ve seen in a bar these days lol. Amazing read
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“While there’s beer there’s hope…” That must be why had to quit drinking, I couldn’t stand be that freaking hopeful. 😉
Hope your friend sees happier days. I would like to pass on a bit of advice once given to me: Never chase after a woman or a bus, Another will be along shortly.
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I marvel at how different your voice sounds from one of these vignettes to another. How do you do it: write another book? Write these brilliant little pieces nearly every day? I suppose you don’t watch too much telly, eh?
Oh, this line gave me a smile: “…there is nothing worse than an introspective depressive, unless you are talking a drunk introspective depressive…” 🙂
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This is all excellent…but I so laughed out loud at…she’s no oil painting herself! That’s a good one!
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A fun use of language, both gripping and enjoyable for the reader…in this case, me. Well done!
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love your stories, dialogue, humor, insight. x
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I shyly, very shyly, confess that I do not like beer. I guess there is no hope for me….but my non-drinking partner hasn’t abandoned me…so there must be hope for her.
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Some of us get wasted in a clever way… which is really no fun at all.
Sx
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I enjoued reading this very much. Although hope is highly overrated, to believe in hope should be harmless. Better believe in friends! lol 🙂
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Oh, poor Greg! I would have bought him a beer. Don’t think it’d help much, somehow. 😦
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love your work……. it is a special talent/ability/curse to be able to touch a heart string.
Terry
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Hahaha! What? “Philosophy is for miserable people making an excuse for not having fun, or being passed over for promotion or just passed over: period.” Now, that’s food for thought! 🙂 😦
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