No ideology.

A Story by thoughtful203

I am starting to write and I really need all the advice I can get.

MY BOOK

Chapter 1

Meet the crew…

Sunday early morning, in front of the club I spent the night in. I was smoking a cigarette waiting for my friends, Yaser and Namit. They both walked out, zigzagging, hugging and laughing. It was at that moment I realized that yet another time, our designated driver was too drunk to drive.

“Yaser, you retard,” I said smiling “ we always end up walking in the cold when you are our designated driver.” He didn’t dignify that with a reply. Yaser, was always selfish in that way; never thinking about anyone but himself. Still, I was to drunk to hassle, so I walked up to his Black Mercedes, opened the trunk. And took out the Pot I stashed earlier. I started rolling one, while Namit and Yaser were hitting on three girls passing by. As soon as I finished rolling, I put a song on my phone and started walking.

“Ali, where are you going,” Namit asked.

“A warm place to eat,” I replied, while lighting the joint “with some luck we might find something open.” Namit and Yaser joined me, and we started walking, smoking, and singing along…

“ MY HEAD IS A JUNGLE, JUNGLE,” the three of us chanted, at the top of our lungs…

May be it was the aftermath of a long night of drinking, dancing, and smoking; but I couldn’t shake this feeling I had of living a pointless life. In this moment of joy, my mind was drifting away, and this weird notion of living a pointless life was taking over me, I felt uneasy and lost. I was with the son of a Libyan Banker, and a descendant of Indian royalty. On one of the most beautiful Avenues of the world, why are we here? And where are we going? Nothing in my life made a lot of sense as usual.

I paused the song, looked to my left and to my right, and asked: “Guys, what are we doing here?”. Yaser, barely intrigued by the question, answered “ Looking for food is probably not the answer that you are looking for.”

“No that’s not the answer I’m looking for,” I rolled my eyes; frustrated that he couldn’t see the gravity of the situation like I did.

“You always ask questions that have no answers ” he replied, slightly annoyed, yet not enough to start an argument or react. What a passive man he was.

I looked at Namit, he was looking up, concentrating, as if he was looking for an answer that would satisfy me. What a good friend.

He took a deep breath, and blasted “ We are three rich kids, who barely know their countries, and were sent from one private school to another, until they lost sense of what real life is; now they are third year university students, more interested in partying than studying; reason why they were clubbing instead of doing something productive, and their designated driver is an alcoholic in denial; that is why they couldn’t bring any girls home from the club,

And are freezing in the middle of a country they don’t even care about enough to learn it’s language. But you know what! I’d take this any day over being in some slum or village in India. Is this good enough of an answer for you?”

I smiled, and looked into the distance, satisfied that someone might understand me. We kept walking and these thoughts faded away, I could now appreciate the rest of my joint. We then saw a sign of an open Fast-food restaurant. Yaser shouted “BURGERS!” and ran towards the restaurant. We followed in a moment of drunken happiness.

Chapter 2

Another day, another plan for the night….

I always considered myself a serious student, at least I showed up, not like Yaser, and Namit, who were never there. Our university was a private English university. So our entourage were mainly international students that came from all over the world to study, and party in Paris. We all spoke English together. The result was that after three years, we still did not speak French.

To my surprise, upon arriving to my lecture that Friday morning, I found Yaser and Namit, already seated, Note books in hand, waiting for the lecture to start.

“The f**k are you two doing here?” I asked surprised.

“We are here to learn, to expand our knowledge, to uncover the mysteries of the world my friend!” Namit replied sarcastically while sipping on his coffee.

“Uhum” I replied while pulling the coffee cup from his hand to have a sip.

“We have an event to promote” Yaser unveiled, while leaning towards me, as if to let me in on a secret plan “We are here to selectively sort our guests.”

“ To do what to who?” I asked, intersted as I was already aching for the night to start, and to have a social excuse to loose my sobriety.

“ Look,” he opened his bag and took a card out “A friend, the manager of Insanity club, gave me fifty of these cards. You can’t get in the club tonight unless you have one of them. And we are here, my friend, to make sure we only get hot girls in.” Amazed and surprised, I pulled a card from Yaser to have a better look. . At that moment the professor came in, I sat and started taking notes while Yaser and Namit put their heads on their tables, trying to find sleep, obviously uninterested in the lecture.

After the lecture we proceeded to sit in the hall, rate the girls walking by, like some sort of beauty pageant judges. A seven or higher made the cut. Any time we found a girl at our standard, we would proceed to talk to her, sell her the event, give her the card, and get her number. I had a feeling that tonight was going to be a good night.

After that, I took a cab home to rest before the night. My Haussmannian styled apartment was located in the heart of Paris not too far from the Champs-Elysees. It was spacious and I haven’t bothered to change one bit of furniture or put up a family photo since I moved in three years ago. I had no pet and no girlfriend; both were to much responsibility. I walked in and Anita my east European maid, who came every day for an hour or two, greeted me and said she was done cleaning and that she was just on her way out. I forced myself to smile at her, thank her, and lock the door after she walked out. I was alone, I hated these moments of sober solitude; they gave me time to think. I laid on my bed, and as expected, my thoughts started taking over me yet again. I could think for hours about anything and everything. My thoughts ranged from the injustices with our society, to how Flies reproduced. Needless to say I was a daydreamer. I started thinking; my train of weird, twisted, sometimes irrational, thoughts lead me to wonder why I was feeling unsatisfied. Many only dreamt of living my life, yet I couldn’t shake this feeling of somehow missing the point. But what was the point, what was the reason or the sense to my life? So many questions on my mind, and all remain unanswered.

To shake this feeling, I resorted to go to my “special” drawer. I opened it and found a couple of Codeine pills, and some weed. Yes, prescription drugs were another of my vices. I took three Codeine pills, in hope of falling asleep. It worked, numb and happy, I slept like a baby.

I woke up several hours later, still feeling euphoric. I called Namit, and asked him if he wanted to have a pregame in a bar before the club. And made sure he was going to bring a couple of the girls we met earlier today.

I then went to take a shower. I was sobering up. I didn’t want to, not tonight. I got out of the shower, still naked; I walked to the fridge, found a half empty bottle of Jagermeister. My favorite poison. I opened the cape and drank from the bottle.

There is only so much a man can say; when he finds himself naked, drinking alone in a kitchen he never even cooked in. I understood I had problems, but what a better solution than to drown those nasty thoughts down with more alcohol. Brilliant.

Tipsy, I went to pick an outfit for the night. As usual I was dressing to impress. I put on a Black Gucci suit, and a navy blue shirt, my favorite watch, a brown ChronoSwiss my Uncle gave me a couple of years ago. A few dashes of Clive Christian perfume.

I was ready to go and it was about time, but before I leave my Uncle Mohammed, who was the only family I had left, called me. I took the time to sit down and answer his call. We talked briefly, he asked me about my education, and was disappointed I still didn’t have a girlfriend. He told me he was in Hong Kong but that he might go to London this Summer and he would like to meet me there.

Chapter 3

The plan was set, I was going to meet with Namit, Yaser, and some girls, in one of my favorite bars. And then go to Insanity Club. A good plan I thought, especially that tonight Namit is the designated driver. And he was a bit more trust worthy. I walked up to “Harry’s New York Bar”, a bar that was dismantled, in 1911, in Manhattan, and rebuilt in Paris. Once I got into the bar, Namit, Yaser, and four girls were already at our usual table. I greeted Antoine, the owner of the bar, and made my way to them. I approached the table and started recognizing the faces, among the girls; the only one I knew was one I hoped not to see. Her name was Isabella; she had a good-looking face, blue eyes, and red hair. Her body was fit and well maintained. An eight on my scale. Yet, I didn’t want to see her tonight, she was a late night booty call. And tonight, I wanted something else. Also, for a reason or another, this girl was fond of me.

I saluted the guys with a check, and a smack on each cheek for the ladies, the way the French, in their righteous minds intended saluting to be. I sat next to Isabella, as it was the only seat left.

“Hello there”, she said, “long time no see”.

“Yes, I have been occupied, you know studies and all”.

“Uhum” she murmured sarcastically.

“So, which one of the guys called you?” Thinking payback was due to whoever played this vicious trick on me.

“ They didn’t call me, I called Yaser.” She got closer to me as if to share a secret, “I kind of have a thing for him. I hope something will happen tonight”.

Although I knew she would do that to make me jealous, the idea that she wasn’t here for me tonight comforted me. I tried my best to ignore Isabella, talking to the girls, drinking a shot after another. We than left the bar to go to the club that was close by. I told the guys we should walk, that way we could smoke some joints on our way there.

By the time I got t the club, I was drunk, high, wasted. We walked in not having to wait in line, as we were there almost every other night. The manager saw us and took us to our usual table. I got on the table and started dancing in the dark. After a song or two, I went to the dance floor to dance with girls.

After dancing and making out with four girls, I saw a girl that grabbed my attention. She was gorgeous; she had the body of a swimsuit model. She was fit, and had long black hair. She wore a black dress so short, it barely covered her every time she moved her waist to the beat of the music. She was a 9.5. I got close to her and smiled, she smiled back and we started dancing. I didn’t even bother to ask her her name, neither did she. We barely talked, I couldn’t wait to get her home; why wait? After several minutes Gropes, hugs and neck sucking, the sexual tension reached the unbearable. I nibbled on her ear slowly, and felt her weaken, give into the temptation. I murmured: do you want to meet me in the toilet, in five minutes? She giggled sensually, and nodded her head, accepting my offer. I walked around, thinking it would be idiotic to get there first.

While I was waiting, my mind started drifting away, daydreaming nightdreaming. My thoughts took me away, and I started to look into myself. What kind of man was I? Taking advantage of a drunken girl, taking her to the toilet as if she was a piece of meat or a prize to show of. Wait, isn’t it her fault to? She didn’t have to accept my preposterous offer. Who was wrong, who was right? How come I have no answer to all these questions? My incomprehension could only be exceeded by my confusion.

In a moment of puzzlement, I knew these nasty thoughts could only be drowned with alcohol. I ran to the bar grabbed the bartender by the arm, and yelled: “Give me a bottle of the strongest drink you have.” He ran and a few seconds later he came back and handed me a bottle, I didn’t look at the bottle, I opened it, closed my eyes, and drank. With every sip I forced down my throat, I felt the guilt leave my body. I told myself: what is it that is going wrong in your life? You are not a war veteran. You have no real problems. Why would a beautiful woman, offering her self to you, cause you to put your self in this state? And concluded I was sick.

That bottle took the last bits of sanity. I was out of it, in a trans mode, half human half animal, where thoughts are limited to basic instincts, I found Isabella making out with Yaser at our table. I made my way through, doing my best to keep my balance; I grabbed her by the arm, and said something incomprehensible. Yaser looked at me and laughed. He got up still laughing, and got closer to my ear, he told me I could have her and walked away.

I woke up the day after feeling like someone spent the night hammering a nail into my skull, and I looked around to realize I was in Isabella’s apartment. I was lying in her bed alone and she was nowhere to be found. I walked to her kitchen naked and thirsty. I started quenching my thirst directly from the tap. Having no recollection of the sex we had or of most of last night, I thought this was a great time to leave unnoticed. I headed to the bedroom looking for my clothes, and started dressing. I couldn’t find my shirt, I looked under the sheets and the pillows, and at that moment, Isabella walked out the bathroom, wearing only my navy blue shirt.

“Good morning, do you want something to eat?” she said barely noticing me. Although my priority was leaving, I thought I’d rather say and get some answers about last night.

“Yea, sure” I replied casually. We both walked to the kitchen, I was silent as I took a seat, feeling as if every sound in this world was meant to torment my brain. Looking at Isabella cooking up some eggs, wearing my shirt got me thinking. “What happened last night?” I asked.

“I was sure Ali, you don’t remember, I knew there was a reason you are having breakfast with me.” She replied almost satisfied I needed her, “To be honest I was only being polite when I asked you if you wanted breakfast. Listen, we danced and made out but you were way too drunk so I brought you here.” She understood by looking at me, that I was wondering whether or not we had sex. “Nothing happened, you barely made it here and fell asleep.”

“Ok” I replied, annoyed at the fact that last night was such a screw up.

“Look, I was trying to be nice that’s all, you were in no stat to stay out by your self, so I brought you here.” She replied in an annoyed, yet caring voice. I was in no mood for her s****y scrambled eggs, and I got my answers. I got up in silence as she was serving the eggs; I unbuttoned my shirt of her, and wore it. I did not care to talk and she did not care to ask. I put on my shoes and shades, and without exchanging any words, without exchanging any looks, without any thank-yous or good-byes, I walked out on her sitting naked on her kitchen floor, eating scrambled eggs from the dish with her hands.

I had to get out. I took a cab home and I was looking out of my window, searching for the beauty and the charm of Paris. Looking at people go on with their life got me thinking about what happened. I was blaming Isabella; why did she have to take care of me? She is not my girlfriend. Why did she have to make things awkward? Our pointless sex was all I wanted, I am a man with no soul, no ideology. If I had one wish, I would not ask for world peace nor would I feed the poor, if I had one wish I would wish for it all to be simpler. A simple-minded man is a happy man.

Chapter 4

The day after, I met Namit and Yaser at the gym. We worked out together at least once per week. I was doing some cardio, while Namit and Yaser, like always, were working on their abs. They both had this fixation on looking good, while I worked out to keep some sort of good shape, I thought I owed it to my body, after all I did get intoxicated a lot. I ran 5k’s, swam. And finally, I relaxed in the hot tub. I remember thinking there was no way my mind was normal. It seemed absurd to me that a person living my life, thinking like me could be considered normal; I was a freak. These thoughts were disturbing me; I left the hot tub and walked towards the showers. While washing my hair, I was reflecting on how stupid I was to think I was not a normal person, I was as sane as any man could be. Or was I? I was lost within thoughts within my thoughts. I lost the feeling of personal identity and understood that after twenty years of existence my life was not. No accomplishments, no goals and no pleasures; a blank page; a shell of an empty man with no soul. After wearing my clothes, I decided I would not wait for Namit and Yasser who were still admiring their newly found abs in a mirror near by. I walked out, gym bag in hand and a lit cigarette in the other. It was dark and particularly windy. I looked up at the shining stars above me, seeming motionless and calm. A strong light blurred my vision; I didn’t realize I was standing on the middle of the street. The blurring light was one of a car passing by almost hitting me.