It’s Thursday, aka Thirst Day and The Three Amigos , namely Nat, Zach and I are passing on The Wheat Sheaf Tavern in favour of The Pilot.
Yeah, The Pilot Tavern―it was Hemingway's old watering hole back in the Forties and being a writer, I've got to hope that maybe his shade still inhabits the premises.
Nat misses The Wheat Sheaf, and so do I, but Zach is right―it's Sofia's haunt now and she's always a threat as a seductress, hence the sojourn to our new digs.
Nat and Zach are pumped about my accepting the post as writer in residence.
"We'll all be on campus, Nat enthuses, "maybe we can make the Hart House Pub our tradition now."
"I don't know, "I frown, "there's a reason it used to be called The Black Hart―my heart's tarnished enough."
The waitress appears and drops a tray of draft and Nat drops his usual crumpled twenty dollar bill. That'll be his contribution to the evening, but Zach and I order wings and fries and Nat will probably eat most of them.
We accept his perpetual student status and tolerate his inability to pay―we've long since retired our student loans but Nat will probably have to refinance his and pay it like a mortgage for forty years. But I get free psychological counselling and Nat gets to intern by practicing on me.
He probably wouldn't want his thesis advisor knowing we sat in an office at Woman's College Hospital laughing as we read confidential patient records, but all in all, it was just one of the perks of his job.
"Ready for another round, boys?" I glance up and my jaw drops. Sofia Rizzi is our waitress―the very 'Sexy Sofie' I was trying to avoid at The Wheat Sheaf.
"What are you doing here?" I blurt out, dumbfounded by her presence. She's typically dressed in a tight sweater with plunging neckline and painted-on designer jeans.
She drops the tray on the table and sits down...in my lap.
"How's this for service?" she smirks.
Our former waitress reappears and gathers up the tray. She laughs at us, "Don't worry boys, Sofie doesn't bite."
Zach looks at Sofie, still perched on my lap and asks, " I don't get it―do you work here or not?"
"Not," she pretend-pouts, "Izzie is my cousin―I arranged this with her so I could welcome you to the pub. Call it an initiation ceremony―right, Nat?"
Nat hunkers down in his chair and hides his face. Obviously, Sofie used her charms to get Nat to spit up his guts...again, like he did at The Wheat Sheaf.
Am am I subsidizing his education while allowing him to narc on our every move?
Sofie stares right into my eyes―which isn't difficult because her face is only inches away.
"So what's the story, Jase―you trying to avoid me?"
"Naw, it's not like that, Sofie―I told you―I'm engaged."
"Well, isn't that interesting? I ran into Emma on campus and she told me you two haven't talked for the past two weeks. When I asked if you were engaged, she said, that ship sailed long ago."
She stood up, "Yeah, I think you're avoiding me. Have a good life, Jase―you could have at least been up front with me."
She goes back to join her cousin and sits down at a table with three of her girlfriends. They all turn to stare at me and give me the stink eye. I feel like sinking into the floor.
"What the hell, Nat!" Zach hisses, "are you so weak you'd betray your friend?"
I hold up a hand to stop him. "It's okay, Zach―obviously, I'm just as weak, otherwise we'd be at The Wheat Sheaf wouldn't we?"
There's a moment of silence and then we all laugh. When you're friends this long, nobody fools anyone else and especially not yourself.
"To friends," I say, raising my glass. "To friends," they echo, each clinking their glass.
Two hours later, Nat's chatting with the waitress, a boozy smile plastered on his face.
Zach and I get up to go. "You coming?" Zach asks him.
Nat looks at the waitress and says, "Naw, I'm staying."
I pat him on the shoulder as we exit.
"Typical Nat, " I tell Zach. He laughs and adds, "Yeah, beer on the table."
Out in the carpark, I stop Zach from getting into his car. "Got a minute to talk?" I ask. He nods and clicks open the passenger door.
"So what's up?" he asks, "You pissed with Nat?"
I shake my head, "Naw, it's not that―I met this girl and I like her a lot."
He looks at me puzzled. "What about Em?"
"Sofie's right―that ship has sailed. I've just been fooling myself."
He gives a deep sigh. "I'm sorry to hear it, but happy for you at the same time―she must be quite a girl."
"Actually, I just met her, but can't get her out of my mind. I know it sounds crazy, but we seem so compatible."
"What make you so sure she's the one?"
"We both like cats."
"Cats? " he sputters, "you don't even own a cat."
"I do now―Tux―he adopted me. You know what? I sound insane. I'll tell you about this another time."
He laughs, "Okay, Man, sounds like you're in love though. And if you're not, maybe I should drive you home."
"No, I'm good," I reassure him.
But it does feel kind of crazy. Maybe it will all make sense in the morning. If not, I don't care―I'm happy, happier than I've felt in a long, long time.
