The Purple Tux

With just enough education to perform.

Just Another Friday Night


It was just another Friday night for old Mick. Even at the age of twenty-nine, he found himself looking for something fun and exciting to do on Friday night. Usually this consisted of checking the TV Guide channel for something decent to watch. Or, if he felt particularly adventurous, he might perhaps embark on a journey to the local Blockbuster and view a movie of his own choosing. This is how Mick, at the vibrant age of twenty-nine, spent his Friday nights. Sitting in his apartment, flipping through channels, watching television. Invariably alone.

It was half past six and Mick had been home for almost ninety whole minutes. I sure don’t feel like cooking tonight, he thought. The nonsense on TV cut to a commercial break. A local Chinese restaurant had a commercial. He’d ordered take out from that place a few times and it wasn’t too bad. Maybe it was time to dial that place up again. Usually he got the General Tso’s chicken, with its delightfully red and tasty sauce, but today maybe he’d try something different and new. How about some of that garlic basil prawn, like on the commercial? Mick even had an Asian friend who always recommended the beef chow fun. Rice noodles, or something. Said they were pretty good. What to get? Everything was so difficult for Mick to decide. He decided, What the hell, and ordered both.

About half an hour later, Mick was back in his living room, eating his Chinese food. Chinese food is greasy as hell. He didn’t mind the grease, which reminded him of this dirty Mexican joint a few blocks down. He liked Mexican food. Mick flipped through the channels. Nothing caught his fancy, so he left it on his default channel in a situation like this: the Cartoon Network. The cartoon that was on was a bit too feminine for his tastes, so he changed it back to ESPN2. A tennis match was on. He didn’t know much about tennis, but the players were female and they had skirts. He particularly enjoyed their grunts of exertion every time they went to hit the ball. Mick turned up the volume.

Seventeen minutes later, Mick was done with his dinner. He had to cough a few times to clear his throat of all the grease from the food. Putting the leftovers in his fridge, he grabbed a can of beer while he was in the kitchen. He snapped the can open and it greeted him with a seductive hiss. His entire chest felt warm as the beer slithered down his still-greasy throat. Half the can was gone by the time he made it back to the sofa. He placed it down on the coffee table and scratched himself.

“Ahhh,” he sighed, as he scratched.

Eventually the novelty of female tennis players grunting wore thin, so Mick changed the channel. He happened upon a chick flick, but he wasn’t sure which one because there have been so many. All the blondes looked the same to him. It was the ethnic chicks that interested him, and they rarely had key parts in these movies. Somehow, Mick had just tuned in at a crucial juncture in the film. The two protagonists had just admitted their mutual attraction for the first time and were staring meaningfully into each other’s eyes, not yet quite sure if they ought to kiss or not, although it was obvious that they were about to do just that. Mick counted a few seconds in his head before the two characters on the screen finally embraced and began to kiss.

“I’ve waited my whole life to meet you,” breathed the male character, a clean-cut, clean-shaven young man whispered, full of heightened emotion.

“Now that you’ve found me,” the girl said coyly, “stop waiting.”

Presumably, the characters then continued to kiss each other, fiercely, but for some reason the station cut to a commercial with a quick fade.

Why can’t I find a girl like that, Mick thought to himself. It was only the second time he thought that precise thought today, as if he were the only unhappy single twenty-nine year old in the world. A sense of melancholy began to creep into his universe. Such an all too familiar feeling, it was. Simply an undesirable and shameful byproduct of growing up and watching far too many high school dramas.

Mick expected to have a family by now, but he was still alone, scratching himself, watching cable television. It wasn't like he was completely unlovable, a member of the very dregs of society. He didn't even consider himself socially inept. For the past four years, finding true love had been Mick’s primary objective in his life. Despite its importance on his list of priorities, he had yet to fulfill this goal. What was wrong with him? He sure didn’t know. Even Jason, his younger brother and junior by three years, had been married for four years. It just didn’t seem fair to Mick. Every single time he saw his mom, she’d ask him if he was dating anyone, and he could only offer up a pathetic and suitably glib response. So what if he was a pathetic, lonely, single loser. He didn’t have to tell his mom.

The show returned from the commercial and Mick paid rapt attention as the two young lovers found themselves in bed together. The girl giggled like, well, a blonde and the boy had a very satisfied look on his face, as though he had just screwed the hottest piece of ass he could ever find. Mick wondered how they went from finding each other, to kissing, to having sex in such a short span of time. It’d been a while since he’d last kissed a girl. That was back when he was thirteen and his (very, very hot) sixteen year-old cousin wanted to practice.

With a couple of greedy gulps, Mick finished his beer. He changed the channel, too. He’d had enough of watching the program, which only reminded him how lonely and pathetic his life had turned out. Truth be told, he wanted, more than anything else in the world, someone with whom to share his life. Together, he and his idealized wife would embark on treks beyond his wildest fantasies. They would go to concerts, travel the world, donate to charities, and be active members of the community! They would help the needy, fight world hunger, and reform public education! And on Friday nights, they wouldn’t just sit around and watch television or even rent something from Blockbuster… No, they would go to the drive-thru!

No. All Mick wanted was a woman to share his dreams. A woman with whom he could have meaningful conversations with as few words as possible. He just wanted a woman who could understand him. Every day, he woke up and hoped that today would be the day that he would meet the woman of his dreams. Suddenly, it occurred to him that he might have already met the woman of his dreams. What if he had to do more than just meet her? What if he had to say the right thing to her? It killed him that he might have blown his only chance at true love, so he pushed the thought out of his mind. The problem wasn’t anything to do with him. He was just unlucky that the right woman hadn’t come across his path yet. But wasn’t it still possible that she might have crossed his path and he had just not realized it? What if? What if? What if? Mick continued on this circular path, this Moebius strip of reasoning until his heart hurt pretty badly.

That meant it was time to turn off the TV. It just wasn’t doing anything for him anymore, the TV. Mick stared at the blank screen. An unflinching, dark reflection of himself stared right back. The white wall around the TV joined his reflection, presenting a cold, stark image of isolation that was all too plain for Mick to see.

It was just another Friday night.

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