Can I Call it a Walk-About?

The Aussie’s call it a walk-about, some call it soul searching, whatever I’ve been there. I awoke one morning needing to change my life and I just walked out, metaphorically speaking. Its funny how you try to take the bull by the horns only to have to the horns come off in your hands but that’s another post, my walk-about.

One morning I just took out walking to feel the cadence of one foot in front of the other. A step at a time I was walking in the realm of my own possibilities. I lost all track of distance and time, night fell and with all that walking I was parched; great a bar.

Did not think twice, walked right in and my arm went instantly into the, “I’m here, need a drink” motion. I didn’t even look at the bar keep, “Shot of tequila, in fact make it two” I muttered. He said something about the salt being in front of me and asked if I wanted a lemon? To which I replied, “Do I look like a sissy drinker, just the shots please.”

I slammed the first shot and became aware of a gentleman sitting on a stool next to me. Chubby little fellow, so chubby in fact it took me a moment to find his legs but they were there. It was then our eyes acknowledged each other, the universal head nod and again we settled on our stools.

He spoke first, “rough day?” “You could say that, walk-about.” “What is so bad you need a walk-about?” he asked still staring at his drink. I sat silent for a moment and then I felt it snap.

Something in my brain just snapped and I unleashed a barge of gibberish. “Seems everywhere I turn there is pain, anguish, injustice; people going crazy justifying it with whoa us me excuses and then an entire band wagon grows.” The rant was actually about an hour long, I’ve condensed it here but it did not deter the little chubby dude.

Not looking up he merely asked, “You got people in your life that care about you, love you?” I nodded my head yes. I wondered where this was going and tilted my head to catch a quick glimpse of his face. It was then I noticed the scar.

”I would give my soul to have a caring, loving person in my life but all people do for me is make up stories and then try to shot me down,” he was talking as if he had lived a real story and I thought this my cue. “Is that how you got the scar?” I asked. “No, that scar is from me searching for what you already have.” “You mean someone beat you for loving them?” I really wanted to hear this story, I pressed and he obliged.

“I went on a walk-about once, ended up just like you in a bar. Saw a pretty little heifer sitting in the corner, worked my magic and ended up back her place. Prettiest eyes you ever saw, deep brown with long lashes. You know the kind that makes your heart skip a beat. I got lost.” He said.

After a sip he continued, “In the heat of the moment we did not hear the door, nor did I know she was a cheat. I’m not that kind of guy I tell you. Next thing I see is this huge dude at the foot of the bed nostrils flaring and he definitely was seeing red.”

He was shaking his head recalling, “Crazy heifer tried to jump over me to get her clothes, ripped a gash in my head with her bling and left me stranded. I barely made it out of there with my life.”

I guess he hit a memory nerve, paid the bar keep and started to leave. “Sorry dude,” was all I could think to say. Again the universal nod, “Hey what’s your name dude?” “Moon,” he huffed. “As in Warren?” I asked. “No as in “the man in”,” he replied.


Sorry for the length but this little story has been driving me crazy. To those who have contacted me I THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart. As I said in the opening, the horns have fallen off in my hands. I’m trying to get back just be patient.

Peace

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