Russian Roulette

I left from work and walked up the street, from 42nd to 54th street on 2nd avenue, entered a few establishments, saw crowds of people but did not stay anywhere for long, until I decided that I had seen enough and it was time to head back to Queens. By the time I got there, only my cousins (two girls, two guys with their respective girlfriends; one of the girls works there and really isn't a cousin but a cousin of a cousin of mine, and the other girl, a cousin cousin, left shortly after I got there.. it was her birthday), a few hardcore regulars, some others, I didn't really look around and I sat on the familiar side of the bar. 

Usually, I propel into action, move aside, sit alone, step out of my comfort zone and into the unknown. It really is that simple, and it makes all the difference, the more we get used to doing and being with those who are closest to us, the less we get to know the ones that are new. You must do away with the old if you must move toward fresher, uncharted territory. Three beers down, I noticed a familiar face, that feeling you get when you know you've seen someone before, you just can't pinpoint exactly where or when. I knew that the girl coveting my cousin's cousin cousin, the cousin that's not really our cousin but I call cousin, was someone I had seen before. She wasn't a regular, and she's not part of those who work there as I initially suspected, but I had seen her. Then I saw Kristina, sitting diagonally from me, on the opposite side of the bar. She was with her friend and two guys, and one of the guys had grown cozy, trying to hug her as she shoved him off, looking my way. She had probably noticed me before I noticed her, and it was too late in the night to go talk to her, not that I wanted to either. I simply kept doing what I was doing, but she went out for a smoke and the guy she was with followed her, and again, she tried to avoid him but the guy would not get the hint. I watched, out curiosity or boredom, but I was entertaining a conversation with my new cousin, who sat next to me, asked how I was, and I asked her about her recent trip to Colombia and whatnot. 

"Why the long face?" -I asked her. 

She confessed she wanted to cry. I told her, if there were no people seeing, I'd probably join her. She asked about my Russian friend and I told her I hadn't talked to or seen her in almost two weeks. Then it dawned on me: the girl whom I knew I had seen some other night there was the first Russian, two weeks ago. Two Russian girls who I had met on two different nights were now there, on a dead-beat Saturday night with no DJ, scarce attendance, very little to offer place, closing hour, how did I not notice her before, how was it that I missed a cataclysm of that magnitude? Was the Kristina Russian girl friends with her? Is it possible that I can still work up the courage to find out if my suspicions of espionage had any veracity? What are the odds, I said before, that I meet two Russian girls, two different nights, and while that was odd an occurrence, odder it seemed still that now both of them coincided there in the same place. No, they were not friends, they weren't even sitting close, Kristina had her friend from last time around and the other had her friend from that other crazy night, the last Saturday I saw a DJ there. No more Saturday DJ, we were at the mercy of the girls playing the jukebox, so the place was reminiscent of the times before it was acquired by the Tu Casa owner: vastly desolated, with just a few notable faces. There was nothing there, awaiting me then the street leading home, the weather growing colder, the empty apartment. By now, my mother should've been living here, but I still am by myself. That's a good thing, really... you cannot be a source of joy for anyone if you can't stand being by yourself. I stand alone, even when I'm surrounded by others, I said before. 

Paranoid as to what was unfolding, I wanted to secure a witness. I turned to cousin Al and asked if he remembered me talking to a tall Russian girl two weeks ago, and I had to remind him because he had forgotten it all. 

"Russian chick, her friend left her alone, we were smoking cigarettes, you were here, I was there" I told Al. 

Out of perhaps politeness, he said he did remember, of course.

"Hey, man, you know how guarded girls are at local bar? You have got to keep track because I don't want to be told later that I have been hallucinating these things" I said, laughing.
Ah, what great fun it is to be among familiar faces, where I stayed. Even when, judging by her moves, Kristina signaled that she was alone, passing me by, staying away from her stalker, I stayed with my people. The other Russian girl came to us, talked to my new cousin, and I didn't even register. I was not in my element, maybe I was just taking a night off. We all have nights like the rest of the world, in which we only get happily drunk... God forbid I go a weekend without kissing a stranger! 
Then I saw my glass, empty, looked up and there was the new bartender. 

"I think she's Russian" Al teased.

I had had enough. I picked up the bill, and soon thereafter left. 

As soon as I hit the bed, I fell into deep sleep.