Once suicide was out of the question, junk food was the only shoulder that I could lean on in this most testing and depressing moment of my life.
But after days (I lost count ages ago) of self pity and brooding in my own saliva, the Dominoes finally gave up into a state of stale, shrivelled up fungi infected bread which even the rats now refuse to relish. The famous chocolate Ben & Jerry’s now adorn the once green carpet into waves of brown glory goo as painted by the child Picasso himself. Like the Alps, my furniture lay covered in layers of crisps and chocolate bar wrappers. In the middle of this grand remodelled sty I was stupedified like a radish on a wedding cake staring at the spider on the ceiling. I am hazy on the details or the rules, but I am sure the game was to stare each other to death. I was winning until spidey decided to cheat and run after the fly that got caught in its web. Traitor.
Bored, depressed, lonely (the underlying words defining my life) I ended up driving miles in the middle of nowhere. 100 miles per hour, music blaring, finger on her speed dial - I debated with my flawed logic to call her. Next thing I know bright lights flashing on my eyes and the car started dancing the jig and airbags blew into my face. These things hit you so hard you wonder at times whether it was meant to save you or take your life away.
Sadly still alive, but now stranded, (bored, depressed and lonely too) I walked into the darkness until I stood staring at this old English pub.
Since I don’t booze, smoke or sniff (all of which now sounds enticing) I was fish out of water when the bar-tender leaned forward and pushed his lean mean moustachy face onto me asking what I’d like.
“I’d like to forget everything”, I grunted.
He laughed. My neighbours raised their glasses and yelled, “Cheers!”
Misery loves company and I was in the right place. I sat there taking shots of concentrated tomato juice in these cute tequila glasses surrounded by stories miseries, yelling and cursing. I was finally among friends.
When Barney (or at least he looked like him) gave me a lift home in the wee hours of the morning told me what brings me back to the title of this post, “You see, Saj don’t you worry, every dog has its day!”
I looked at him with the “it doesn’t make sense” face, when he narrates this story:
A man walks into a bar and sits down next to a lady and a dog. The man asks, "Does your dog bite?" The lady answers, "Never!" The man reaches out to pet the dog and the dog bites him. The man says, "I thought you said your dog doesn't bite!" The woman replies, "He doesn't. This isn't my dog.
“You see, Saj think about it, every dog has its day!”
I am still in the state of depression “stayed” over so don’t ask me the philosophical significance of his statement. Let me know what you make of it, while I call the AA to get my car towed and get back to my depression in peace with a ice pack on my bruised face.
Great! Adding to my woes, the weekend is over too.
God I hate Mondays!
