[miniWWYP2] Nighthawks

I’ve always considered myself a thinker of some sorts. I think about stuff that doesn’t really matter to life in general, but I think about it anyways. According to some people, I think so much that I can’t sleep at night. I do things like stare at the ceiling, and mentally re-arrange the tiles into random things. So as a result, I’m a bit of an insomniac.

One night my insomnia struck at one of the worst times. Four o’ clock in the morning. There’s something about four o’ clock that just drives me mad. I don’t have to go to work at the Stock Exchange for another three hours. I’m never hungry at that time, not even for a cracker. The thought of eating something filling makes me want to puke. However, I am constantly thirsty for hot tea. Many of my friends think that tea is “too soft.” Where as, they drink coffee, which wouldn’t contribute anything positive to my insomnia. I guess tea doesn’t either.

Anyways, I figured that I would just try to fall back asleep. I started thinking about when I was young. I was a smart kid, and had an interest in economics. My parents were nice. My dad loved camping. He brought the family up to Lake Placid where we would stay for two nights, then return to the city. The difference was amazing between the two places; how there was so much gray here, and so much green up there. It was something that I could never get enough of.

Well, when I finally realized that I wasn’t going to get back to sleep, I got out of bed. I put on some lousy clothes, you know, the kind that you just put on for the sake of wearing, not for fashion purposes, and made myself some tea. I made it with a Lipton tea bag, two spoonfuls of sugar, and a little milk (although I really preferred creamer). My apartment wasn’t really a tea-drinking atmosphere, so I decided to step outside.

The air was warm; it was almost summertime after all. I sat on a bench underneath a streetlight, leaned back, and took in my surroundings. There was something about the city at dawn that really made me happy. I guess it was the lack of people; it made the city seem a little less crowded. The lousy part was that there was always sound. It was never silent in the city; always a useless sound. Two stray dogs fighting, a car horn somewhere. You couldn’t escape it.

When I had finished my tea, the sun still wasn’t up. The night didn’t make me uncomfortable or nothing; to be honest, I kind of liked the night. My insomnia forced me to build up a tolerance for darkness. I decided to go back inside and start to get dressed for work. I put on my suit, tie, and my favorite hat. It was five thirty. Although I didn’t have work until seven, I figured that I’d take the long way just to pass the useless time.

I had walked forty blocks and reached Wall Street. The sun was finally up, and Manhattan had come alive. As I walked up to the Stock Exchange, I came upon a huge crowd. It turns out that the Stock Exchange had been closed for the day. It was some stupid excuse, like a bomb threat or something. However stupid the excuse was, I couldn’t have been more excited that I didn’t need to go to work for the day. Since I had already wandered so far away from home, I figured that I’d go to a nearby café and get some tea.

It turns out that the nearest café wasn’t very near. I had asked one of the guys in front of the Stock Exchange where one was, and it was about thirty blocks away. Since I had no plans for the day, I figured that I’d start walking.

Walking never fazed me. I thought of it as a time to do some observing and thinking. When you drive, you can’t take in what’s around you because you’re too afraid of crashing or something. The thing that annoyed me the most about New York City was the speed at which people walked. It made me feel like you had to keep up with the fast pace, or you’d get left behind. I don’t know what you’d get left behind in, but everyone hates to be the odd man out.

It took me about two hours to get to the café. I ordered my tea from the attractive waitress and read the ads on the menu. Well, to be honest, I didn’t really read the ads; it was just to keep from looking at the waitress. I’ve never really had much luck with women. I’m too socially awkward to start up a nice conversation with anyone. She came back with my tea and said, “Do you want anything to eat with that?”

“No, thanks, I’m not hungry at this time of day.”

“Oh,” she said with sympathy, “Well, only if you’re sure.” She walked away. The little bit of sympathy was all I needed for a brighter day.

I drank my tea for a while and thought about the waitress’s comment. I analyzed it to the point where I understood that she felt sorry for my choice. I decided from there that I should just try to eat more in the mornings, just so people don’t feel sorry for me. It’s too troublesome to drink tea and deal with sympathy at the same time.

Still sitting, I took a random glance at the door. I don’t know what it is about people walking into places that makes you want to look at them. By a mere coincidence, it was my friend from the Stock Exchange, Jeff, and his wife, Layla. Jeff was a nice guy, but he never seemed to show it. Although he came across as a tough guy, he actually was very smart too. I always liked people like Jeff. His wife was different story. She was a girl who loved the color red. Red dresses, nail polish; even her hair was red. She was a woman that blended right in with the people that walk fast on the sidewalk. She was a woman that always had stuff to do in a day, and didn’t have time to be nice about it. Why Jeff liked her? I can’t answer that. I waved them over to my table; a little company was nice.

Jeff and I talked for a while, paying no attention to his snotty wife. We talked about things that I know you wouldn’t be interested in. Anyways, we all left the café. I left a nice tip for my waitress. I felt that fifty percent of the bill was enough for her sympathy.

My next destination was the library. Reading has always been one of my strengths. The Great Gatsby, Brave New World, anything that appealed to me. The library just seemed to engulf me whenever I walked in. I would get so caught up in reading a book, that I turned out to be in the library for multiple hours. I decided to stay away from the library when I was doing something important, however, I had no plans for this day. I just happened to pick up Great Expectations by Charles Dickens. The first chapter was so gripping that I had to sit down and read it. Once I was done with seven chapters, of the book, I realized that I was getting dark outside. I was asked to leave because the library closed at six. I don’t know why, but I left Great Expectations at the library. Maybe so some other person could get engulfed in the first seven chapters of it.

I decided to go home. The only thing that got me all tired was reading. On my trip to the library, I had actually backtracked the way I come before to get to the café. As a result, I wasn’t too far from my apartment.

Although I hated napping, I figured that I’d attempt at getting some sleep before my sleepy feeling went away. Napping bothered me because I had a subconscious feeling that I was wasting precious hours in a day. It felt like screwing up my mental schedule by pushing it a couple hours forward.

I had slept for five hours. It figured anyways because I hadn’t slept much in the past week. I was irritated that I had wasted five hours. However, I decided to treat the current time as any other time of day. This time, it just happened to be midnight. I had a great thirst for more tea. As you can guess, I felt like going to the café to have the tea.

It was still warm out. Midnight in the city seemed so much better than the daytime. There are no people around you to brush past you if you walk to slow, and there’s a strange silence in the air. It was something that you couldn’t get from the dawn. The moon was out too. I always preferred the moon to the sun. It gave off a more mystical feeling. Also, you don’t see the moon as often as the sun. It would have been bright enough to create moon shadows, but the orange streetlights ruined the image. The café’s lights were on.

The first person I saw when I walked in was Jerry, the owner of Phillies. A real down-to-earth guy that Jerry was, the kind of guy that you could tell anything to. I could tell he was happy to see me.

“Hey! What’re you doing here? It’s one at night.” He said.

“It’s been a long day for me, I just figured I’d make it longer.” Jerry chuckled. “Can you get me some tea, with lots of creamer?”

Soon after my tea had arrived, Jeff and Layla walked in from their night on the town. Jerry and I were astonished.

“Man,” said Jerry sarcastically, “if it weren’t for you d@mn nighthawks, I’d be in able to close up early.”

“Funny, now get me a coffee will ya?” Jeff never had much of a sense of humor.

Jeff and Layla conversed while I talked to Jerry about my day. I told him about waking up at four, the stock exchange closing, the beautiful waitress, and I recommended that he read Great Expectations.

“Well, apparently a relatively good day can’t even cure your insomnia problem,” Jerry said with a chuckle. Then it came to me.

“Jerry, I think I gatta get out of this place. That’s what’s keeping me up at night. I have to go to the Adirondacks, like I did when I was a kid. From now on, just like I did today, I’m going to do the stuff that makes me happy instead of waiting for it to come to me. I’m going to talk to the waitress tomorrow, then I’m going to make plans to get out of this town.”

“Well, I’m glad I was witness to your revelation,” said Jerry, “now are you going to pay your bill and leave, or do you want another tea?”

“I guess I have time to enjoy one last tea here.”

I slept like a baby that night.