I went to a formal dance thinking that my ideal would uphold. Instead, it was crushed. I went after the dance to find inspiration in other forms (so that I could finish my story), I got mocked and turned back.
This is the product of a night, and the depressing day after.
Enjoy.
------------------------------------------
This is a story set against the beautiful backdrop of a place which I have only recently started to appreciate…
---
“The whole concept of love is flawed.”
“What did you say?”
“Look, you’re happy now, but love is the most ephemeral and fleeting of all the emotions. What happiness you feel now will be, soon, nothing more than a distant memory. Perhaps it might haunt you, the thought that such happiness only exists in the past. However, I can tell that I am boring you two. So go, and enjoy the rest of your night.”
The man in the blue bolwer hat walked away from the couple, who had evidently dismissed everything he had told them as complete nonsense, and so in his absence, rose from the table around which they had been sitting, walked, hand in hand, back to the putrid maelstrom that was the dance floor.
The man in the blue bowler hat sat, alone, at a table, which was fairly sequestered from where everyone else was. “Why did I even decide to go to this dance,” he thought. “Why did the organizers, whoever it was that organized this dance, have such an odd idea for a theme? Why do I feel so out of place here?”
True enough, it appeared that every other man at the dance was either wearing a red or green bowler hat. What was more shocking to the man was that at some point during the dance, the men would hand an apple, whose color matched the color of the bowler hat the person was wearing, to his partner. It all seemed at once a grotesque yet familiar ritual to the man. “Of course I would wear a hat that is incompatible with this ritual!” he exclaimed. “What choice did I have; it was the only bowler hat I had. Why does fate always seem to be against me? Always!”
“I’m sorry, what did you say is always against you?” said a man wearing a red bowler hat with a thin green trim along the brim.
“Fate. And why should you care? Don’t you have a partner already? Where did you suddenly appear from anyways?”
“I have been sitting at the table across from you. I guess you can’t really have seen me because the lighting is so abysmal in this place. On second thought, I’m sure you must have seen me stride over to your table. Do you normally wear glasses?”
“Alas, I do, for without them I would be near-blind at night. I lost them though on the way to this dance…”
“Ah, a true misfortune indeed! To answer your other question, no, I haven’t found a partner yet. Whenever I offer a red apple to a girl, she replies, ‘I like your green trim. It’s so distinctive. It’s a terrible shame that you don’t have a green apple, though,’ and then walks away. When I try to offer a girl a green apple, she laughs a little and says, ‘You really should have offered a red apple. I barely see any green on your hat!” and them proceeds to walk away.”
“So, we are both alone, and we can be partners in our common state of solitude.”
“I know, but isn’t loneliness such a terrible emotion? It’s always paired together with hopelessness.”
“Not necessarily. It’s true I feel very lonely, being the only person wearing a blue bowler hat at this event. But hopelessness, depression, I do not feel at all. In fact, I feel perfectly content and at peace. I hate dancing so but I happen to enjoy the concept of a themed dance. To me, sitting here and watching others is just as fulfilling as dancing.”
“That’s a very interesting viewpoint, but I’ll tell you, have you ever had your heart broken, you know, thrown on the ground, and forced to watch it shatter into tens and thousands of shards?”
“No. I haven’t taken too many chances in my life with respect to that topic. At this stage anyways, love is nothing but a dead end leading to a cliff. Why should I bother?”
“Ah, you ask that, but look at all these couples here on the dance floor! They seem all perfectly content to give their heart to their partners, even if it is for only one night.”
“See, though. If for some of these unlucky souls, it ends after this very dance, you know, ‘How can one love again/ After a love so cruel,’ or something like that.”
“Well, to you, the idea of a one night stand sounds cruel, but maybe these people happen to fancy it.”
“We could never tell, unless, of course, we happened to be able to peer into their souls.”
“We can practically do that now. You do know that privacy means close to nothing these days, no more so than the fallen ideal of Communism, something born out of the purest intentions, but mutilated until it was shunned by the masses. That’s what privacy is now; people who seem too reclusive are shunned by society; they are always the ones suspicion is cast on.”
“I know what you mean.”
“I’m glad you agree! Social networks are really a wonderful thing, but I wonder if staying too interconnected with one and another may have negative repercussions.”
Suddenly the man in the blue bowler hat rose from his seat, almost in a state of euphoric craze, as if he had the compulsion to do something, and would have knocked down a man, cold, if he were in his way. The man with the red bowler hat with the green trim realized his sudden change in composure and said, “Ah, so it looks like you have to go somewhere. Well I will stay right here, if you need me. Adieu.”
The man in the blue bowler hat felt strange, as if he had to escape this scene at an instant. He shoved his way through the dance floor, which by now, and grown past the limits defined by the psychedelic tiles, and had clogged the room effectively enough, that one was forced to push through the throngs of sweating masses just to reach the exit.
The dancing crowd did not seem to care that the man in the blue bowler hat was at time, showing quite rudely his way through the crowd. At last, he could see the door to exit the venue. He rushed at the door with both hands outstretched, and the door did not budge one bit.
“Sir, you must pull the door open,” said the bartender, who was watching the man’s comical little debacle, as he had nothing better to do, since everyone was dancing, and evidently the crowd had not yet become thirsty.
Ignoring the bartender’s words, and rather relying on simple logic, pulled open the door, and muttered a few curse words at his own ineptitude, for having his grand exit turned into a comical vignette. Outside, he was at once struck with a sense of melancholic inner peace, as he could see the lake, which on it had tiny waves undulating back and forth, and one solitary boat off in the distance, its green light the only thing, apart from the glazed reflection of the moon, lighting the lake. “You know, they weren’t lying when they said that these lakes were like oceans,” the man said to himself.
“Leaving so soon?” said a voice.
The man in the blue bowler hat turned around to see a man who was wearing a green bowler hat with a red trim near the top.
“I could say the same about you,” replied the man.
“Me? Oh, I just went outside to take a quick drag. My partner’s waiting for me back inside. I’m almost done, however.”
“Wait. Could I talk with you a bit?”
“Sure, but keep it quick.”
“I’m leaving because I’ve seen enough. I’ve seen these couples dancing in ways which make me worry about the future of humanity. Is this all worth it, you know, this kind of dancing I’ve seen tonight. Even if it is just to fit in with the masses, is it worth it? Tonight I asked myself the question, ‘Is this what I want to become?’ Well, I’ve answered with a resolute no, and now I am leaving.”
The man wearing the green bowler hat put his hands on the man’s shoulders, and rotated him a quarter turn anticlockwise.
“Look,” said the man wearing the green bowler hat, “Look at where you are. You’re in one of the greatest cities in the world. Get some of that big city mentality, be a little bolder, take some chances, let loose, and above all, enjoy the night while it lasts.”
“While those are some very inspirational words, you know how hard it is to change the mind of a person who has steadfastly made up his mind. But, I must ask you, what is it like? You know, this ecstatic state of mind these people on the dance floor have.”
“It’s revolting at first, but as you get drawn into it more, you begin to crave it more and more, like as if it were the most addicting thing in this world, until reach a breaking point, after which all you feel is pure euphoria.”
“I see. Well that won’t make me change my opinion of this subject. I’m going away from this terrible place now. Enjoy your night.”
“Wait…!” cried the man wearing the green bowler hat. “Are you positively sure? You know… you could go back with, and I’d even help you find a partner!”
But the man in the blue bowler hat walked away. He knew that the man might have had honest intentions in his offer, but he also knew that once he reentered the venue, all his thoughts would vaporize into the smoky air. The man wearing the green bowler hat scoffed, and opened the door to the dance floor. For a few last seconds, the man in the blue bowler hat could hear the pounding music coming from the dance floor. He swore he could also make out groans coming from that terrible coagulation of flesh, but he just dismissed those sound as perturbations of the bass.
The man continued to walk along a path near the lake’s edge; nobody else was there, and the man continued to walk alongside the yellow haze of the half-lit lampposts that were scattered on the side of the path. It was a nice night: although it was a little chilly for this time of year, there was a fresh breeze coming off of the lake, and the sky had only a few patches of cloud in it, grey streaks spread out along a sky which had a slight orange tint from the lights of the city.
The man reached a beach, and he took off his shoes and socks, laid them neatly along the path on which he had been walking, and strode over to the water’s edge. He was about to step further in when he heard a voice.
“Wait!” it yelled.
The man turned around, and to his surprise saw the man wearing a green bowler had with a red trim running towards him.
“You were right!” he cried. “I had no idea what I was getting myself into. Take me with you! I want to go with you; anywhere is better than the dance floor after what I had just seen take place!”
The man put his hands on the shoulders of the man wearing the green bowler hat with red trim, turned him around a half-turn, or slightly more, anticlockwise so that he was facing the downtown skyline and said, “Look. You belong here. This is your city. I don’t, which is why I must leave.”
“All alone? Don’t you want support, a partner?”
“I began my journey tonight alone, and now I will end it, alone.”
The man in the blue bowler hat walked into the lake. After twenty seconds or so, the only thing that was visible of him was the very tip of that blue bowler hat, juxtaposed against the reflected of the moon, which seemed to hang like a silent selene in the sky.
They say the water of the lake has been a more pure, azure shade of blue ever since that day.
