This is me

Give me peace.

This is me

Give me meaning.

This is me

Look at the dance floor, at the hundred or so souls lost somewhere between infinity and the latest cell phone. Dancing, or perhaps, un-rhythmically vibrating, like one of those beds in the honeymoon suite of a county road motel. Vibrating, to what sounds like the same recycled beat repeating itself over and again, courtesy of a trend setting house D.J. who gets by imitating the latest cell phone ringers. Gazing at the crowd, eyes squinted to focus. Is this what penguins would look like if they were to evolve? One, impersonating the other, impersonating the other, and so on, in an endless rotating sphere; a mere reflection of the crystal mirror ball aimlessly rotating above the centre of the floor.

Sitting, it’s easier to cast aside cynicism for a moment so as to deal with more immediate matters. The penguins will be here or somewhere like here, for eternity, but now my heart tells me it needs a drink.

We both do.

“Whiskey, no ice” mumbles out of my mouth.

Whiskey never used to taste so good straight, but something has changed. Maybe it’s me who’s changed or maybe the world has changed without me. The world has changed. The world has moved on. I’m no longer a champion. I’m not even mentioned in the same breaths as Muppet Man and Brian Calvin. Why I’m sitting in this booth, on this night, in a place like this is beyond me, but it may be from the lack of fear that I wont be forced to engage in an intelligent conversation. In a place like this the labels on your clothes do most of the talking, your wandering eyes the rest. One look at me tonight, and even the dimmest glow-stick twirling, vibrating penguin would see there is nothing to say.

Finally, my drink.

“Four fifty please” comes from an uninterested mouth, attached to an uninteresting person, who under such unfortunate circumstances probably rides the bus 45 minutes each way to work just to get paid less than the cost of a whiskey with no ice -- plus tips of course. I give her a five. She gets no tip, only an order for another straight whiskey.

I think Steve Buscemi’s Mr. Pink from Reservoir Dogs put it best, I don’t tip. I'm very sorry the government taxes their tips, that's messed up. That isn’t my fault. It would seem to me that waitresses are one of the many groups the government screws on a regular basis. Look, if you ask me to sign something that says the government shouldn't do that, I'll sign it, put it to a vote, I'll vote for it, but what I won't do is play ball. And as for this non-college crap I got two words for that: learn to type, 'cause if you're expecting me to help out with the rent you're in for a big surprise.

I’m paraphrasing for the kiddies of course. But something about that quote reminds me about a simple fact many of the WWA stars in the Birthday Brawl don’t think about. There’s no such thing as a free lunch. For most of them this will be their first time in the Brawl ever. They think their owed something. Even the returns like Dave Harley think that. Their wrong. Even when Damian Thorne used Leviathan last year to cheat everyone else out of the World Title did I complain? No. But most of the results will be the same. Those who win will talk about how they deserved the win the whole time. How it was destiny. The ones who lost will feel cheated and say so…at great length…whether you want them to or not.

Staring out onto a dance floor full of mindless followers, as they spin and shake and move in mindless, hypnotic motion, the whiskey kisses my lips. If anyone had the inclination to glimpse at the somber looking loner drinking by himself, they would say he looks like one of those old, pathetic, has-beens who hide in the back corners of strip bars: the loser who holds his breath waiting for a wink from a money hungry stripper just so he can say to himself he’s still got it. Now I know how Liam feels. But no one looks, and the pervert is left with himself. At least unlike the others out here tonight I have a loving home to go back to. I’m not an alcoholic either. Not yet in my life anyway. I’m just trying to deal with what’s going on right now.

It’s not before long that the endless beats fade to nothing, the dancing penguins dim to those few last white spots left in your closed eyes right before you fall asleep, and then suddenly, you’re alone.

This is me

Give me peace.

This is me

Give me meaning.

This is me

Rock and Roll

This is...