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Foolstop

He was fifteen when he first attempted suicide. Nineteen the second time he tried. Then twenty-one, twenty-three, and twenty-seven.

At thirty-one he thought he’d finally get it right. But after waking up stuporous from several bottles of wine and sleeping pills, he wondered if next time he might have a go at an even numbered year.

Now he’s forty and sitting at the bar at a Pronto in Ginza, killing an hour before a date. He’s listening to two half-drunk women arguing the good and bad, mostly bad, about Japanese men. They’re both apparently still single, and way too picky, then he discovers they’re much older than they look.

As they whinge and groan and laughingly complain, he’s amazed how the women can believe the drivel slurring from their tongues. And when they leave, leaving a complete mess for the waitress to deal with, he muses if this year might be the one.

Funny, the things you remember while trying to forget…

Posted by Mr. Eyes in: Stories   Comments Off   29 October, 2009   Tags: Ginza

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