My favourite things

I was bewildered and even a little frightened with Colm’s final exclamation. What’s going to happen tomorrow? How does he know that something is going to happen tomorrow? What is he going to do? He must be involved with it in someway. What the fuck is this substance thing all about?!

The cab driver was watching me through the biggest moustache I had ever seen. It’s volume made it cover half of his nose and I could barely see two slits that could form a mouth. He looked at me like he knew something that I didn’t. A secret that everyone was keeping from me. I glared at him to stop looking all knowledgeable and such. He smiled and threw his eyes on the road.

When I reached my apartment I left the coins that Colm had thrown along with some gold of my own and left the cab. He honked his horn at me as he sped off.

The red light was blinking on my answering machine when I entered my apartment. I saw no point in rushing these things so I lit a cigarette and made a coffee before sitting down next to the machine to have a listen. Once I had smoked half of my cigarette I pressed the play button. Nothing happened. I pressed it again, nothing. I then pressed it about twelve times within two seconds and still nothing. Red light. Blink, blink, blink, blink . I didn’t need this right now. I told the red light to go fuck its self and sat down for a bit of late night Lettermen. The TV turned on to a tampon commercial with young girls flailing around talking about how this particuller brand was all about “their” style. There are some thing us men will never understand.

When Lettermen began I was disappointed to find out that Paul Schaffer was hosting the show tonight because David was feeling unwell. Not that I have anything against Paul Schaffer and his sunglasses, but when I needed something that was familiar, Paul Schaffer and his sunglasses just wasn’t going to cut it.

I turned my televsion off and thought that some Jazz might be in order to slowly lull myself to sleep. Not some crazy Coltrane stuff but maybe a bit of ‘Some Kind of Blue’ by Davis. Yeah, I could go to sleep to that. I lit another cigarette.

Miles had began playing the first few notes of his trumpet as I eased myself in to bed, pondering the very nature of Colm. His hysteria was completely unexpected and left me feeling on edge. For this reason I was having a hard time going to sleep and I was still awake when Miles was going for the first repeat of the album.

I pushed myself out of bed to have a another coffee knowing that it wouldn’t help me sleep but since I wasn’t going to go to sleep for a long while yet due to this Colm incident, I thought why the hell not. I took out Miles from the CD player and put on a Coltrane ‘Best Of’ CD on random. The first song to play was his reworking of “My favourite things”.

I went back to the blinking light of my answering machine and tried to stare it out hoping that the machine will give in to my idiotic concept of sense. It won the staring competition.

Coltrane…shhhhh...time for bed time.

Thinking about all the pretty things in life. The rain, the sidewalks, the empathy of people, their smiles and their frowns. Blowing in the wind. Thanks Dylan.

It was 4am when I checked the alarm clock and I had yet to go to sleep. It was one of those nights where you over think about going to sleep so you fail at the task miserably. It was rather shit.

I think I got about an hours sleep in the end. I woke up feeling ordinary, tired and confused. I woke up to find out what substance was all about.