I usually love cold weather. Yes I do.
But it’s getting ridiculous. Absolutely ludicrous! It’s quite rare that I have to use a heavy, warm and fuzzy jacket, but if you are looking for a sight, today’s the day.
If I were using one, though, but I’m not and I’m feeling a bit popsicled. Add to that a dash of confusion, a splash of disorientation and that parched feeling you get when you do a lot of exercise and don’t drink any liquids for a while.
Now, I swear this is not making sense, but I just woke up in a public bench. I have no idea where I am, but people walking near me try not to stare, but do it anyways, be it by a quick double take or by a sideway glance.
Is it my black grooved Nike t-shirt? I know it’s not good karma to wear Nike, but it was a gift, sorry, you holier-than-thou bastids!
Oh, I see that everyone is wearing warm coats (some accessorize with nifty hats) and I’m only with a t-shirt and some dark blue denims. The sky is clear, but it’s very chilly. I don’t feel any warmth from the sun and I might as well start walking to get some sort of rise on body temperature, quick snap.
The more I walk, the easier it’s to ignore the stares and pointing of fingers. C’mon, little runts, haven’t you seen a Polar Bear Club enthusiast before?
Then again, they might not be amused to see me on my swimming trunks, so fair’s fair.
You know? The more I walk around, the warmer I feel. It’s that funny fuzzy feeling of comfort, like the moment when you drop your warm clothes, feel the cold and then scramble to the comfort of your duvet. That feeling that blood is rushing again all around. Take that, hypothermia! Alf lives again!
As I keep walking, I have this strange suspicion that I have been here before. It’s definitely not Mexico, since everything is in English (or a variation of) and people are playing that British national sport, shopping and yakking at the mobile.
Which is a sport that is played in most countries all around, really.
But I am not going to go on another anticonsumerism rant (since Space Hijackers do a much better job than me) and better focus on the urgent stuff.
Like getting some nosh. I’m absolutely starving. And I really feel parched. Like I haven’t had anything to drink in ages.
Now, there’s a sign in front to me. To the left, a place called Pallasades. To my right, something called Bullring and a NEC centre. I’m right handed, so I go left, just to right any wrong done to the left in decision makings.
Make of that what you will.
Anyways, as I approached the place called Pallasades, I saw signs of a train station, called New Street. I still have no idea of where I am, but the creeping feeling of déjà vu has already become an uninvited guest that outstays its welcome.
The entry of the place is heavily adorned with little cascade lights. You know which ones, don’t you? Those that look like hanging icicles. Everything is illuminated, in bright tones. It’s so shiny, so peaceful, that I forget that I’m lost, cold and surrounded by people with too many shopping bags in each hand. Some of the shiny LED stalactites have a blue star (made of LEDs too) on its center.
Must be Christmas shopping season. I have a keen sense, dig? That gave it away. Oh, also the dudes dressed as Santa, the little German-style markets (with model houses) and a group of cheery lassies singing their hearts out.
A Salvation Army lady is near me and I accidentally drop a ten peso coin. It was a reflex, really, no mean act was intended. I feel embarrassed but no way am I going to go back and ask for my ten pesos.
Oh dear, now I realize that I don’t have any money! What the hell am I supossed to do? I don’t know anyone and my singing is a little rusty, so I’m pretty done for. A quick wallet check? Yup, I carry my international credit card. Trusty old mate, that keeps me all year in debt, lying peacefully in the bottom of the wallet, besides a Virgin of Guadalupe stamp and a membership for Dave and Busters.
But I digress. I’m trying to be near a wall but the mass of people moving is astounding. Really feeling warm by now, no problems and…yeouch!!!
A gust of polar wind stabs me in the back! I recoil in pain! Sod it! Piss! A back spasm! I’ve always an affinity to get back spasms with cold weather. I stagger around, feeling a thousand pins of pain in my upper back and lower stomach. Some people are genuinely worried and are asking me if I need help. I really don’t want to interrupt their shopping or the lovely frozen day they are spending with their loved ones.
“Cramps” I explain through gritted teeth.
I try to assure people that I am okay and they leave me be. God bless them.
“Chop chop, Alf, keep moving, stay warm and it will all go away”. I follow those thoughts and maybe it starts to work.
Between the pain, the magnificent illumination and the cold, I realize that I’m already inside a shopping centre, called Pallasades. It’s even warmer and nicer in here. Very cozy indeed. I still feel pain and put my back to a wall, grabbing hard, long breaths of warm air, just to see if the cramps and spasms go away. It seems to be working.
Some time passes, the people are still on their capitalistic communion and I’m just looking around. My wandering eyes stop dead on their tracks when I spot someone, all the way to my right. She can’t see me, but I see her, clear as day. She doesn’t need any lights to look shiny and warm in this place: she already is a guiding beacon in this sea of flesh and woolly hats.
The long wavy black hair, half combed but not neatly nor overdone, parted right at the middle. The pink open cardigan, never too warm nor too light. I can’t see it, but I know there’s a ring with a red heart in a silver frame adorning one of her fingers. She’s there, looking so perfect, so happy and so alive, that my pains go away.
I try moving towards her, but simply can’t make me legs move. I obtain movement after promising my aching body some well deserved endorphins that will be obtained with a hug. Well, I’m not actually moving, more like a stumbling motion, but no worries, should fit in like a binge drinker. She hasn’t noticed me and a surprise “wotcha?” would be fantastic in these conditions. I won’t even try to yell, especially since the cacophony of a thousand shopping voices would drown my little insignificant voice. Y’know, the squeaky voice you get when you see a person you really like like, not just a crush, dig?
Is it me or are the lights growing more and more white? It’s like they have a life of their own. Feels like slow motion, and in that speed is how I see how her lips start to crease upwards, her eyes become a little smaller and her arms start to rise. She moves from her starting position, near a supporting beam, and moves forward.
Not towards me, mind you. She just hugs a guy and kisses him, with a passion I never seen her display before. I decide to stop and rest again the wall, using the motion to straighten my back a bit. A little crack, there it goes, almost good as new. Another surge of pain goes on my back, but is not as heavy or hurting as the one I feel in my soul right now.
I’m an incurable romantic. Sue me.
She’s in the arms of another man. Not a dream, a reality. I thought no other pain would equal it (mind you, these cramps are vying for the first place). She smiles at the geezer, with a serving of a nice blue stare. Those blue eyes that shine like halogen lights on a dark desert road. Such a gaze could make you go for the least romantic simile you could think of. He smiles back, starts to hug her again and they both kiss. That kiss takes for a long while and I’m watching, mouth agape and without any exit strategy to speak of.
“Life goes round and round, luv” says a petite old lady that has sneaked and now is standing by my side. “Let it go and come back on another round”.
She hand me a gingerbread man and she goes away, disappearing on the crowd. The gingerbread man is half-wrapped on a paper that reads “Greggs”. Not bad, not bad at all. Chewing the humanoid cookie distracts me for a mo, and when I raise my sight, she’s looking me. Not on my general direction, but straight into me, into my soul, do not pass go, do not collect 200 pounds.
She sees me and I half smile at her, but the longing in my eyes just tattles on me. I decide to make myself scarce, losing myself on the crowd. She still has her eyes on me, and I feel now so alone, in this crowded shopping centre.
I’m retreating, walking backwards, looking back at her
The loneliest man on the crowd looking at the best accompanied man on the crowd.
(this is an extract of a book i’m working on. for more inquiries, feel free to comment or drop me a line).
