after all.

After all,
no one knows what the story's all about that a floating ice berg is telling now.

Oh Paris.

She called for two times a night, Saturday.


The voice from the phone is as depressed, from the second phone I can even tell that she's rather disappointed when I had clearly expressed the fact that I am not going to show up as I promised.

'That's how life can be for everyone.' I thought in mind, tasted her tone of mood for a while through a cold, calm and self-expressed telephone. "Sorry I'm not going to ... just... I'm not... no, I won't tonight. Have to run some errands..."

She hung up as fast.

I know how it bums people's mood when the promise becomes useless sack, like the clouds, very promising yet presenting for nothing. I wonder how she would take it, on my way out getting some drink during 9:00.

Of course I can be there, as I said several days ago, "I will come here, just call me.", Saturday is usually a day I want to do whatever, no one can put me into some schedule, I never promise to show up, but somehow... I promised her.

"Would she call someone else? Who had made same promise?"
"Is that other person going to show up?"
"Or she will wait till I'm ready?....... Come on she's not going to wait." debating in mind, I'm good at it.

Sit at a bar, order my regular.

I love hanging out in this tiny cozy place, I try to show up as much as I can, since it doesn't seem to be too popular, may close if business doesn't go well, apparently it's not so far. In the dimmer tone of light, bartender- thin paled girl, she knows my stuff. Always starts with fixing me up with my favorite if she saw me, why wouldn't she? There are not too many too keep her busy. Even it's Saturday, 9:20, party is about to start... some where else.

Deep down my heart I hope she had called some other people. I hate keeping others hanging on to my ignorant words.

I said stuff.

For a romantic or you can also say irresponsible soul, people shouldn't look up or get tie on it too much, after all for most of time I rather enjoy my own quality time in stead of getting involved in some big project. As said birthday party, wedding...

Friends said I should go out more, little did they know, I go out quite a lot... alone, like now, sipping my regular drink sitting at the bar, looking at the pretty girl who is trying to make a margarita for the other lady, she's a regular who always orders strawberry margarita. Strange yet I love it a lot about this bar is, we never try to engage a conversation to each other even we bump into each other much enough, it's maybe because the solid cool mood in this tiny bar, we tend to sit the time off.

I can't help to think about the girl, and those phone calls.
It's not about her, just not the right time, or maybe it's me. I am not a commitment person, that's all.

Maybe I will drop by tomorrow. See how things are going.
 
 
---
 
The very next day I went to the store to pick this DVD I had reserved. The reason I am interested in it is because I had crossed my eyes to an interview said it's a good movie, even brought some tears into her eyes.
 
Tears are good stuff when watching a great movie. I had several times in my innocent days in college- considered last century. I don't know it's me or the movie industry, there are not too many touching stories put in big screen which makes me so sad or moves me in all kinds of way so I have to let the emotion out.  
 
Out of curiosity and some hope, I went to the store ask about it, the lady said it's all out, she will keep eye on it for me and call me once one of the copy is returned.
 
"Paris"
 
This is an intriguing word.
I was told several times that I should visit Paris.
 
But, in the end I was not touched by this movie, I blamed the interpreter. " 巴黎愛情故事 " she/he said it is about love stories in Paris.
 
However, Paris has been presented as a depressed, sad, struggling city.
 
Sorrow? a lot.
Adrift... everywhere.
Love? a little... maybe.
 

It takes two to "tangle"

"It takes 2 to Tango"


There was something about his tango class.

As a person who always seeks balance in life, Tango is just another art of balancing. It's a method of finding balance with his dance partner, in distance, in posture, in tempo, in step up and down, even in eyes contact. For him the most interesting thing is, tango with another person is so close, yet tense, and the one his hands held, is a perfect stranger yet it seems they know each other for so long time.

Every Wednesday he tangos with a lady who currently works in a telephone company as a technical research and development department. She has her way to pull this tango thing off. Being in this class for longer time, she has grown her own look during the music plays. A little pompous, proud, yet her posture is another story which can go on for another four pages.

The first time he joint the class, not like every first meeting he had attended, in those bargains he's like a shark which swims in a big pool which can practically call "his game". Conflicts are like a bow of cereal, he ever choked up in any of it. But for Wednesday Tango, he sweat a little bit by the edge of forehead. He felt his well trained Gym body doesn't help at all when he trapped his right foot by his own left foot. Awkward, stumble... then she came along with her fascinating smooth steps, that convinced him to break his jogging routine from every Monday to Sunday.

She always wears a nicer skirt which can fly with every turning, not too exaggerating, not too dull. She flys in a milky blue wool blouse. And his tango dress is like this, in pants mostly are dark blue or gray. For shirts he would pick some with light checks and definitely no ties. He always has some complex when he wears a tie, fold the sleeves to 5 center meter right below by the elbow. Sometimes he goes sloth with certain things, arrangement of his CD shelves, color of shirts and ties, but in dressing in such an activity, he never drops the ball.

Until today.

After having his hair cut, apparently the barber is all about the baseball game on TV. It's all about rules, strategy on lips yet not so much happening. He's focus on the magazine and the way the barber is going to handle on his short hair. This is one of those things (very short list) he couldn't handle by himself. After 20 minutes paying the bill, and he couldn't believe that the barber is still watching TV while checking with him. "is it OK?" He swore to himself to find a way to manage cutting his own hair. Pick up dry cleaning around the corner of his apartment, he took a quick shower and set up for his 11th tango class. He'd love it and after the class, he would call his buddy up to pick up a quick side dish in the bar "Phoenix" which is always crowded after 8. Couple of beer, maybe.

Sarah isn't there.

Not like being absent for 5 minutes for mobile phone, is, "not there" absent. After teacher explain the course tonight, walk towards to him. "Well, you're with Sarah, right? She called off for today. Here, I think you can help our new classmate out, alright?" For him it’s almost like nothing to adjust to new rules, don’t even mention how flexible he can be.

"Hi. I'm here for try out, my friend insists me to attend and sign up for me, so, where to start?" She smiles with a bit stiff on the face. He recalled his first time in the room. There's nothing difficult to help a newbie to warm up, see how Sarah did a great job, of course he can do the same. He marched to her with full confidence, even she's in a pair of blue jeans and red polo shirts, with her big and curly hair, paled face with a inappropriate big glasses, black, like those you can find in grand-pa's drawer, her eyes are rolling behind it.

Then music played, with a perfect harmony and light sweet tempo, he planned to do the best guide to a newbie and fascinate her with his precise, balanced and elegant tango moves.

After one thousand time missing steps, bumping into each other, or her right foot on his left, or she tripped him by the famous wrestling posture... he starts to miss his own blender.

"It only takes one to blend."