"I wake up in the morning, but something’s not right.
Cook my sausage and eggs, but something’s not quite right.
A commute to work, yet something’s not right.
Some new stories to tell, and something’s not right.
Boss really likes my article from yesterday, something’s still not right.
The day was long, but productive, but something’s not right.
I’ll work on the story about the new bowling alley tomorrow; I can’t put my finger on what’s not right.
I’m going to be late! No, no, no, this can’t be right.
Made it with three minutes to spare, this doesn’t feel right.
She said to meet her at Gate 4, or was it 5? I can’t tell which one is right.
She texts me, “I see you” and… Oh, there she is! This is… something.
She tells me about her trip on the drive home, it was nice for her to see another country and all but business didn’t really let her go sight seeing; I think this is right.
She’s relieved to be home, I’m close to positive that this is right.
She slips off her clothes and slips on some pajamas all while managing to look astonishingly cute. We get ready for bed and when I see her come from the washroom to fall back into our bed, I start to realize what it is that felt wrong and understand why this feels right.
She gives me one last kiss and we drift into our deep sleeps. The day is now over, so long and good night.”
…I sat in the back of the taxi cab with enough Rosé in my veins to make the day of your average alcoholic who felt they were too classy for hard liquor and stuck to Rosé. The magazine I was employed with at the time had been paying for everything during my journalistic stay in this city so I was more than abusive with the prepaid credit cards and stacks of cash they threw my way. The cab driver opened up to me and as I listened to him ramble on with his thoughts on everything from everyday life to conflicts in the middle east, I got a clear sense of who he was through the cloudy veil of my drunkenness. He was a firm believer in a higher power, I can’t narrow down his religion but it seemed to be some form of Christianity. He believed that God was always there for him, a belief that may seem innocent until you realize the high and false expectations it provided for people like this cabbie. He believed that he was numero uno in God’s eyes, that God would always help him, that it was God’s eternal responsibility to be loving no matter. I could never wrap my head around someone believing that a higher power must take care of their own creations for the sake of morality. Sure a parent’s instinct will lead them towards caring for their child but when you have billions among billions of creations who are all living free because of you and only you, you must want them to do things for themselves every now and then. I always thought that we stick to praising and leave it at that, but some people need more to be able to sincerely say thank you. Despite his firm beliefs, he freely threw God’s name around in vain; phrases like, “For Christ’s sake” and “What in God’s name” seemed to roll off his tongue as easy as, “Hello” and “Goodbye”.
We arrived at The Peninsula Hotel and I paid the cabbie with a 20 dollar bill which amounted to a 7 dollar tip being how the ride only cost me 13 dollars in total. Having previously worked a tip-paying job in my early years, I’d always been more than generous with tipping, even if the magazine wasn’t paying for it all I still would’ve gave him something extra.
The hotel was gorgeous, unlike anything I’d ever seen but I was much too out of it to really experience the whole glamour of it all in the moment. I wobbled my way into the elevator and after examining my key card the elevator operator then dropped me off at the Peninsula Suite. I stumbled past the Brazilian cherry wood flooring and Murano glass chandeliers to admire the beautiful view across Fifth Avenue. Golden drapes formed along the neighboring windows of the room, a grand piano sat to my left and a 5 piece set of furniture surrounded a glass table in the middle of the living room I was in. Gorgeous art was installed all around me and adjacent to this living room was an office that’d be perfect for writing the Great American Novel along with catching the latest game of football. It was a lot to take in and I had no more to give out so I fell back onto the King size bed, clothes and all, and let the deep sleep take over like a pleasant tide covering a calm sandy beach…
Pretty soon, I’m going to travel outside of my home province for the first time ever. That’s kind of a big picture to paint if you ask me.