Seasons in Change (Chester Hoffman at Twenty-Eight)

Couple's who figures were interweaved together like tapestry levitated across the tile, swaying gently to the music that played from the stereo. It was a slow music dance, and Chester Hoffman, age twenty-eight, was no slower dancer. Prone to anxious movement, and also having lanky, long legs, he found himself lingering around the open bar. He briefly thought if people might wonder if he's an alcoholic (he was), but three Old Fashioned's in, he started to care less.

"Manhattan", Harry said, approaching the open bar, stopping a few stools down from Chester. Chester must have been slightly inebriated, he admitted to himself, not noticing Harry's arrival before he spoke. Harry, a tall and slender man with coffee skin, and beady, falcon like eyes hidden under thick rimmed glasses, was a man Chester always liked, despite having only met him four times. First, at a party in Bowdoin during Chester's first semester, Chester loosing a game of beer pong before Harry came in and saved him. Second, on a camping trip in Woodland Colorado a year later, Harry and Chester ingesting too much shrooms and believing that they were being stalked by aliens. Third, at Tommy's, a mutual friend of both of them, housewarming part about three years later. Fourth, a random and accidental run in at a farmers market.

"Hey! Chester!", Harry shouted. Harry, himself obviously inebriated much like Chester, walked, or more so stumbled, to Chester's stool, placing a palm on his back.

"Good to see you, how you been, man?"

Chester drunk the rest of his Old Fashioned, wiping his mouth with his cuff.

"I've been good...yeah, good."

Chester and Harry stared at each other, after a moment, both breaking out into laughter.

"So you've been shit", Harry said in between chuckles.

"Yeah, pretty much. You?"

The bartender came back with Harry's drink, Harry thanking him and taking the glass.

"Same honestly. I don't know though, I think sometimes maybe things are going good for me, and I'm just a complainer. Natural born kvetcher. So maybe I have been good, who's to say."

Chester chuckled.

"Too much neurosis is bad for the soul, makes your skin age faster."

"Well, good thing I'm black then", Harry replied, bringing a chuckle out of Harry and himself.

Silence overtook them, and they sipped their drinks, watching the twisting couples and jubilee.

"Look at Hugh", Harry said with a mean chuckle, looking over at a short, obsidian haired man with a mustache talking to a taller brown haired man. A woman approached Hugh with a drink, Hugh quickly taking it and resuming the conversation with the man.

"Talk about fox and hound", Harry said, getting a laugh out of Chester. Guy, the taller, dusky haired man, said something, Hugh slapping his thigh and laughing with juvenile vigor.

"Do...do you think he knows Guys just trying to fuck his sister?", Chester asked a laughing Harry.

"Absolutely not", Harry replied.

Hugh's sister returned, handing a drink to Guy.

"Oh my God", Harry said with a laugh. "He had Lisa bring him a drink. The tragedy."

Chester and Harry both burst out into another fit of giggles. A woman waved at Harry from across the room.

"Well", Harry said, picking up his glass. "Seems the ol' ball and chain summons me."

Harry put his palm on Chester's shoulder.

"It was good seeing you again. I mean it. I'd say let's do it again soon, but..."

Chester nodded.

"Life", Chester replied.

"It's a bitch", Harry said, patting Chester on his shoulder. "I'll see you the next go around."

And with those words, Harry departed. Chester downed his drink, raising his hand slightly. A moment later, the bartender materialized like jinn.

"Manhattan", Chester said. "Please."

"Changing things up?"

"Gotta keep them guessing", Chester replied.

"Heh, I feel that."

A moment later, a manhattan found itself in front of Chester, courtesy of the bartender who departed with a salute. Chester turned to watch the dance, his eyes in their own sort of rhythm as they shuffled slowly across the room. Maybe he should go rejoin the celebration.

"Shot of the Knob Creek", a voice said, interrupting Chester's train of indecisiveness. Chester turned to find an obsidian haired woman a coupe chairs down from him. After a brief lock of the eyes, Chester did a half-smile and turned back for the amorphous crowd.

"The none-tipper, right?", the woman said, moving down the seats.

Chester's lips twisted into a confused smile.

"...what?"

The mystery woman laughed, moving down another chair until she sat beside Chester.

"I'm Guys sister", she said, outstretching her hand. "Amy."

Chester stared like a deer in the headlights for a moment before his eyebrows jumped up and he took her hand.

"Oh! Guy told us he had a sister, yeah. I'm sorry, my brain...it just kinda..."

Chester sputtered and waved his hand.

"Yeah", Amy said. "My brain does the same."

Chester grinned, lips twisting into yet another deformed smile.

"So...how's Guy as a brother?", he finally said. Amy laughed.

"How's Guy as a friend?"

Chester chuckled, turning his body more towards Amy.

"Fair. He told you about the tipping fiasco?"

Amy shook her head, taking another sip of the knob creek.

"No, no, Harry did."

Chester nodded.

"Mm, of course he did."

"So why do you hate the poor?"

Chester laughed.

"No...I don't. So, and I'm assuming you already know this, we, meaning me, Harry, Guy, Hugh, Andrew and a couple other guys are at ihop. We just left a bar and it's like, I don't know, three am. Maybe four. Harry of course orders the waffle and chicken because he's the only with a brain. I get some hamburger or something, along with Hugh. Andrew gets some chicken strips and Guy gets a taco or burrito or something."

"Gross", Amy interjected.

"I know", Chester quickly replied before getting on with his story. "But anyways, after like fifty minutes the guy comes with our orders, and I mean this as a compliment, juggling all of them like a magician. We woof down everything in under fifteen minutes. When the check comes, we talk about splitting but decide one guy will pay for everyone then we'll pay him back later. That guy ends up being me, and I have like one dollar, maybe less, after I pay for everything. And I don't get paid for like two days, so of course even though I want to I don't tip."

Amy puts her face into the crease of her arm, laughing.

"You laugh, but the level of stress and humiliation I was under was hell."

Amy began to laugh even harder, Chester following. Much like every encounter of jubilee, silence and somber followed soon after.

"So", Chester began. "What do you do?"

Amy chuckled.

"Damn, already? I haven't even asked you yet."

Chester's mouth went agape, putting his hands out.

"I-what? Isn't that a normal next question for a conversation?"

"I'm joking", Amy replied with a grin. "Kind of, I do hate that question though. So...I don't know, of earth."

Chester nodded, taking a sip of his Manhattan.

"I get you, I think. So-"

Chester sat the glass down, turning back for Smy.

"Any questions you wanna ask me?"

Amy brows furrowed in thought, a laugh leaving Chester.

"Hm..I guess I would ask...what is it you do?"

Chester broke into a grin, shaking his head.

"Absolutely crazy."

Chester reached back for his drink, taking another quick sip before placing it down. As if fueled by vague and sudden panic, he glanced back at the rest of the room.

"I, um-", Chester began.

"Are you an alcoholic?", Amy asked. "I'm not saying this to be funny, or even mean, just out of genuine curiosity. Guy is definitely one. So are most of his friends."

Chester observed Amy.

"No...no, I'm not. I don't think."

Amy raised her eyebrows.

"You don't think?"

Chester shrugged.

"Yeah, I don't think I am. Do I like drinking? Yes. Do I drink everyday? More or less. Could I stop? Yes, and I have several times."

"Okay, so why never permanently?"

Chester laughed.

"I don't know...it's like you said earlier. Of earth. I don't think people were made to go through this existence completely...I don't know...sober, I guess."

Amy studied Chester with a smile.

"Okay...are you religious?"

Chester shook his head.

"No, no, not even slightly. You?"

"Sometimes."

Chester nodded.

"Like my mom."

As soon as the words departed his lips, Chester groaned, putting his face in his palm. It was too late, Any already laughing.

"Self-admitted mommy issues so early wow."

"I know", Chester groaned, head still in his palm as he shook it.

Silence once again returned. Briefly, this time, Chester taking another quick sip of his manhattan.

"I make commercials", Chester said.

Amy grinned.

"Like...?"

Chester shrugged.

"Anything. Car insurance, restaurants, stores."

"What do you mean make?", Amy asked.

"Write and direct", Chester responded.

Amy laughed. An indignant look came across Chester's face.

"What?", he asked with a grin.

"Nothing, it's just...I don't know...that's not a profession you hear a lot."

Chester laughed.

"True, I guess."

"Do you like it?"

Chester thought a moment.

"I mean...I guess, yeah. It's fine."

Amy nodded.

"What idk you want to do? If you could right away, and there was nothing stopping you."

"Direct", Chester said without hesitation. "Features I mean, and shows too."

Amy nodded.

"What's stopping you?"

A series of sputters, stutters and incomplete sentences departed Chester's mouth.

"I-I mean, there's the state of the industry right now, not to mention how closed the door is getting, you know? Even if-I mean..."

Amy put up her hands.

"I get you."

Chester laughed, face slightly blushed.

"Yeah, it's-"

"A lot", Amy finished.

Chester somewhat nodded.

"So, back to my question, what do you do?"

"Teacher", Amy replied. "Sixth grade math."

Chester nodded.

"And how's that?"

"Brutal", Amy replied. "But I love it."

"Sixth grade", Chester said. "So like...eleven? Twelve?"

"That tends to be the age range yes", Amy replied.

Chester chuckled.

"Stupid question yeah."

"Well, like I tell my students, there's no such thing as a stupid question."

Chester smiled. A genuine one, earnest, and no trace of irony.

"Where do you teach?"

"Pike Place Middle School."

"Where is that? Don't think I've heard of it."

"That's probably because it's in Oregon", Amy replied.

Chester's eyes widened, and something in him fell.

"Oh, so you're not..."

"No", Amy answered. "I've been in Oregon for about six years now. Besides special occasions like this, I'm not usually over here anymore."

Chester nodded.

"I see."

Like something eternal, silence once again returned. The couples continued their twirl, 'I'm Just a Dancing Partner' beginning to play.

"Want to go dance?", Amy asked after a moment.

Chester opened his mouth, then closed it just as quickly. He turned his gaze for the jubilee, then back for Amy.

"Sure."