‘I think I’ve just about heard enough today, first makeup and now facelifts. I’m beginning to wonder about you, Martin Truman. What are you, gay or are you a transsexual? I mean is there something you’re not telling us, some dark sordid secret you want to confess?’
‘Which question do you want me to answer first?’
‘Any, it’s all relative,’ replied Mark. ‘Are you taking this all in, Tony?’
‘No Mark,’ Martin cut in. ‘I’m not gay and I’m not a transsexual and why shouldn’t men wear makeup? I’m not talking lipstick and eyeliner, I’m talking about light tones of foundation here and there.’
‘What’s the difference? Please tell me this is a dream. Wake me up somebody. Tell me there are candid cameras around the corner.’ With one swift move Martin flicked his left ear.
‘Ouch that hurt,’ screeched Mark.
‘Mark, this isn’t a dream. You need to grow up. Anyway Tony, as I was saying, before being interrupted by this immature fool; women go through the menopause, so do men. It’s just that the male menopause isn’t talked about. There are a couple of books on it but it’s not high profile. However, I’ve got my own spin on it. Like I said before, I call it the mid-life blues. A lot of men experience it but they’re too ashamed to admit it. Some don’t even realise they’re going through it.
The subject matter isn’t really given high-profile status on the male health circuit.’
‘I’ve heard about it,’ said Mark. ‘There’s a guy I know who wrote an article on the subject, but for the life of me I can’t remember his name. Anyway, Martin, do continue.’
‘Why thank you, Mark.’
Tony homed in on every word Martin said and was now very intrigued by Martin’s knowledge in this area.
‘So what is the male menopause, Martin?’
‘Some men experience it in different ways. You see, it’s like this, Tony. What I did was go out with a lot of younger women so I could feel good about myself. Some men experience depression, low self-esteem, they feel like a failure. Do you identify with any of those things Tony?’ Tony shrugged his shoulders.
‘For me, sleeping with those younger women made me feel alive – and before you ask, Mark, they were all over the age of twenty-one.’
The thought of Martin shagging young women made him ill but that was probably because he considered Martin as a father figure. I need a stiff drink, thought Mark. Six glasses of gin and tonic and I’ll be mentally equipped to handle Martin’s melodramatic confession of a man possessed with the blues. However his attention was quickly diverted as he noticed another young waitress nearby and so beckoned to her. She must have been new because he didn’t recall seeing her at Lorenzo’s until today.
He turned his back on Tony and Martin and called her over. She carefully placed fresh napkins on the next table then turned to acknowledge him and walked in his direction.
Mark took a good look at her. She wasn’t particularly pretty but she had a warm smile and he loved her braids. Her eyes were bright and fortunately for him she looked older than the waitress that served him earlier.
‘I’m terribly sorry to bother you, miss,’ he said.
‘It’s no bother at all. Can I take your order, sir?’ She took a pad from her pocket and fiddled with a pencil. Mark gave her a cheeky smile.
‘You can take more than my order.’ She returned a half smile.
But before Mark could place his order, Martin pulled his chair closer to Mark’s and whispered in his ear. ‘We’re having a heart to heart here. This is a very delicate matter and now isn’t the right time to be hitting on the waitress.’
Mark smiled then looked up at her. ‘I’m sorry about that, er I’ll have a ginger ale with brandy and I’ll collect my drink at the bar … er … would you like a drink, guys?’ There was no reply.
Mark felt like the outsider in the whole equation. Tony and Martin were almost the same age and here they were sharing experiences he was unable to relate to. It suddenly dawned on him: it could happen to him. He had read about it before but Martin and Tony were living proof that the mid-life blues, male menopause, mid-life crisis, whatever it was, was happening to them.
He watched them both as they continued talking and he came to one of two conclusions, either they’d forgotten he was there, which was difficult to do, or maybe they were both sick of him.
He was finding it hard to comprehend the whole thing. This was scary stuff, real crazy stuff but on a positive side this would actually make a good pilot for a drama series, he thought, maybe even a film. He had connections in the right places with a few producers who were always looking for fresh material. Maybe he could put forward a proposal. It was certainly something to about.
Feeling slightly uncomfortable, he removed himself from the table and headed towards the men’s washroom. In a flash it suddenly dawned on him – counselling, that’s what Tony needed, not Martin putting his spin on things. OK, so most men weren’t keen on counselling. In his opinion women were the emotional creatures who sought counselling. Actually, that had been his naive view on the subject before he met professional counsellor, Tara Johnson. She described Mark’s attitude as one of blissful ignorance as a large percentage of her clients were actually men.
He’d met Tara at a charity function two years ago. She was thirty-nine, single, no children and simply gorgeous. They’d been to dinner twice but no romance or sex blossomed between them. Tara Johnson, professional counsellor and therapist, was adamant they’d simply be mutual acquaintances.
While he was washing his hands in the gent’s washroom he took a close look at himself in the mirror. He was handsome, had a great body and loved every inch of his toned physique, especially his chiselled abs. It’d taken him three years of pumping iron in the gym, three times a week to get this great physique. It wasn’t easy but no pain no gain was his motto. Only it was no fun training at the gym any more, not since he and Veronica had split up. He missed her terribly but sleeping with her friend was a stupid thing to do. He had regrets but life went on and like most mistakes he made in the past, he wasn’t going to dwell on his mistake or become too depressed about it. Well, that was his intention.
Mark took one last look in the mirror, twirled his hands through his budding locks, then made his way over to the bar area. He pulled up a bar stool, sat down, glanced over at the table where he’d left his friends and watched as Martin’s mouth went ten to the dozen with Tony’s head bopped up and down in response to whatever was being said.
The young waitress poured his ginger ale and brandy into a large tumbler, then added some ice. He was sure to study her every move. He noticed that although she wasn’t particularly pretty, there was certain attractiveness about her and her outfit didn’t leave much to the imagination either. It was tight and showed every outline of her body. Her breasts were a little on the small size but she had a good size rear and for him that meant there was enough to work with.
‘Enjoy your drink, sir.’
‘Thank you but please call me Mark. So how long have you been working here?’
‘Three days.’
‘Three days huh, you’re a dab hand at this, so what’s your name?’
‘Kelly.’
‘Nice name, are you single?’ Mark’s intention was to get straight to the point and what better way than fire a direct question that required a simple yes or a naughty no.
‘Look Mark, if you’re coming onto me.’
‘Excuse me?’
‘I thought you were coming unto me?’ He smiled and looked at her with soppy eyes. It was a look he perfected. Women always fell for his soppy eyes.
‘I’m sorry Mark, it’s just I’m tired of men coming onto me all the time.’
Mark wondered why. She wasn’t exactly hot - so she had a cute ass and a nice smile but she wasn’t exactly Beyonce.
Still he was intrigued by her.
‘No offence or anything, Kelly, but you’re not my type and I take it, I’m not your type?’ He d
idn’t expect her to be so harsh.
‘No, you’re definitely not my type.’ This wasn’t going very well, thought Mark, but her smile quickly reappeared.
‘Someone’s waving at you.’ Mark turned around to look. It was Martin.
‘I guess that’s my cue to go. Nice meeting you Kelly.’
‘Yeah, nice meeting you too.’ Mark held his hand out to shake hers and in turn she held her hand out to accept the gesture, then for a moment their eyes locked.
‘Bye.’
‘Bye, Mark.’
Mark walked towards Martin and Tony but then he did a U turn and walked back towards the bar.
‘Kelly.’
‘Excuse me, sir.’ She was serving another customer.
‘Kelly.’
‘Have you left something?’ she whispered.
‘No.’ Mark took a deep breath. ‘Can I see you again?’ She looked at him for a second, turned, said nothing and redirected her attention to the waiting customer.
‘I get the message, I’m sorry to have bothered you.’ That was cold, real cold, thought Mark. He felt stupid as he walked towards his friends. She blanked him, paid him no mind, didn’t give him the time of day but then he consoled himself. ‘That’s the way it is sometimes, you win some and you lose some.’
‘And where have you been, don’t tell me, making your moves on the waitress over there?’ Martin had him all worked out.
‘If you must know, Martin, I took a leak and then I had a drink at the bar. I thought I’d leave you to it, you know, so you could give Tony the spin on things. Anyway what’s happening?’
‘I shared a few of my experiences with our buddy here.’ Well, whatever Martin said to Tony, it was definitely working, thought Mark, because Tony looked pretty relaxed. Mark pulled up a seat beside him.
‘Listen Tony, I’m throwing caution to the wind here but anyway what the heck.’ And then he paused for a moment. ‘I don’t know how you feel about counselling but I know this terrific counsellor, she’s counselled hundreds of people including some top celebrities.’
Immediately Martin was on guard. ‘Like who?’
‘I don’t know Martin, she didn’t say. Surely you’ve heard about a small thing called confidentiality.’
Tony listened and Martin was unduly surprised. Mark actually had something sensible to say. Maybe it was all above board.
‘Where did you meet her?’
‘We met at a charity function two years ago. She’s a good acquaintance and no, Martin, before you ask, I haven’t slept with her. Tony, she’s the best and she cares about people. Besides, you never know, maybe she can help you. It’s worth giving it a shot!’
‘Well done, Mark, that’s probably the most sensible suggestion you’ve made all afternoon,’ said Martin.
Tony was in deep thought and mulled it over in his head for a moment before responding.
‘I don’t know how I feel about counselling, I’ve never really thought about it. What I’m trying to say is, I don’t know how I’d feel talking to another woman other than Mary, I really don’t know, it’s hard to say.’
‘I understand, Tony, but she’s professional and she’s good. After all, what have you got to lose?’ Mark’s sales pitch needed to be more convincing.
‘Umm, I’m not so sure.’
‘At least take her phone number. If you change your mind then give her a call, I’ve got her number in my bag.’ He was about to bend down to pick up his rucksack when he noticed a paper napkin on top of his rucksack. He picked it up and looked at the scribbled number written in big bold writing, Kelly 558-7899. Smiling to himself he placed the paper napkin in his jacket pocket and looked over at the bar but she wasn’t there. He wondered how the napkin got there and he smiled to himself.
‘Strange, very strange, she did like me after all.’
‘What did you say, who likes you?’
‘No one, Martin. My phones in my man bag here. There, found it, here we are.’ He retrieved Tara’s number from his Iphone 7s and wrote it on the back of his business card then handed it to Tony.
‘Looks like I mislaid her card or I’ve given it to someone else, that’s why,’ everything I need is in my life line here. This little baby is so good, everything I need is stored in here.’
‘Thanks Mark.’
‘No problem Tony.’
‘Is this a new business card?’ This set Mark off. Finally someone had taken notice.
‘It’s different isn’t it, Tony. It absolutely throws the women. If you hold it up to your nose, you’ll smell a sensual fragrance, a hint of Hugo Boss and Ginseng, it’s off the hook.’
‘Will you quit the American slang, Mark, it’s rather annoying,’ said Martin.
‘How many times do I have to tell you I was born in the States?’
‘Yes and you’ve lived here in England since you were two years old.’
‘OK, Martin, chill out man.’
Tony held Mark’s business card up to his nose and laughed. ‘Smells like old socks to me.’
‘You’re so funny, Tony.’ Then he handed a card to Martin.
‘No offence but I’m not into sniffing cards.’
‘And there’s no offence taken, Martin.’
As their time together drew to an end a cheerful spirit filled their presence and Tony felt as though a burden was lifted, if only for that moment.
The streets weren’t so busy now and the café bar was relatively quiet. Jazz music played in the background and the fresh aroma of coffee tinged with alcohol and fresh patisseries lingered. It had been an odd day for all of them but somehow they all knew their friendship could only be stronger after today.
‘Tony, it’ll work out.’
‘Yeah, thanks Mark, and sorry I snapped at you earlier.’
‘There’s no need to be sorry, Tony. I can be stupid sometimes and admittedly, I was stupid.’
Martin seized the opportunity to wheedle some money out of Mark and prodded him in his side.
‘Will you stop hurting me?’
‘I think it’s your turn to get the bill, Mark.’ But Mark was saved by someone’s mobile phone ringing in close proximity.
‘Tony, is that your phone ringing or mine?’ He looked in his man bag, waffled through his papers, deodorant, chewing gum and gadgets of all kinds but couldn’t find his phone which he had in his possession, moments ago.
‘It’s yours, Mark, try your jacket,’ said Tony and sure enough it was tucked away in his jacket pocket.
‘Well, guys I’m afraid I’ve got to run.’
‘It’s your turn to get the bill,’ hollered Martin, but it was too late. Mark grabbed his man bag and scampered out the door. Within seconds, he re-emerged.
‘I’ll get the tab next time, that’s a promise but listen, guys, I really do have to go, a certain diva beckons if you know what I mean, I’ve got a booooooty call … holler!’
‘Is that right?’
‘On that note I really do have to go. Tony, I’ll call you and
Martin, don’t you dare forget our game of golf next Saturday.’
‘Are you kidding?’ Martin’s eyes followed Mark. He wondered if Mark had a young chick waiting at the corner of the road and he couldn’t resist taking a sneaky look through the window to see if the young buck was up to his usual antics. Mark was halfway up the road, his jacket blowing in the mild wind and his phone glued firmly to his ear but there was no woman in sight.
‘That Jerk, love him as I do, he’s yet to mature into a man. He’s all over the place, wouldn’t you agree Tony? I don’t remember being so out of sync when I was 33 and that slang he uses annoys me to the hilt.’
‘Anyway, listen Martin, thanks for today. I appreciate your advice. You’re a good friend.’
‘Hey, what are friends for if they can’t share a problem?
I’m just glad you felt able to confide in us like that.’
‘You understand me, Martin. Thank you.’
Martin picked up the bill but was
adamant Mark would pay the next time they met. Tony stood tall, stretched his arms out and slipped into his coat but as they were about to leave the café bar the owner, Lorenzo Emmanuel appeared.
‘Tony.’ Lorenzo pulled Tony towards him and squeezed him tight.
‘Are you OK? Long-time no see.’
‘Fine, Lorenzo, I’m fine. I just need you to let me go a moment so I can breathe.’
‘Sorry, Tony.’
‘Hello, Lorenzo.’
‘Hello, Martin. No crazy Mark today?’
‘He was here a minute ago, Lorenzo, but he had to go,’ said Tony.
‘I been busy taking care of Maria, she not too good these days.’
‘I’m so sorry to hear that.’
‘That’s OK, Tony … Paulette say you no look OK. Everything OK, Tony?’
‘Not bad, Lorenzo.’
‘Take care of yourself.’
‘I will, Lorenzo.’
‘See you soon and when you come back, you come upstairs and see Maria. OK Tony?’
‘OK, Lorenzo.’
Moments later Martin walked Tony to his Lexus and they both reflected on the day.
‘Thanks again, Martin.’
‘That’s OK. Anyway give me a call when you’re ready and think about the counselling. Mark could be right. It may turn things around for you. As I often say, life is like a jigsaw puzzle. We just have to find the pieces and put them together.’
‘How poetic, Martin.’
‘Why thank you, anyway, we’ll speak soon no doubt.’
Martin waved Tony off as he drove down Stephenson Square and then on impulse he decided to take a stroll into the town centre. His date with Joan was in the next week or so and he wanted to look good. A new shirt and a nice new pair of shoes wouldn’t go amiss, and anyway after today, retail therapy was a must!
Chapter 2- Tell me this isn’t happening
Mark sat back in his soft leather sofa, kicked off his shoes, turned the TV on and flicked through the channels hoping there was something on the cable channels he could watch. Anything that required very little concentration, something that might just take his mind off his very eventful morning.
Those Mid-Life Blues Page 3