Black wine

I put down my excessively large cup and look about the room. My cup says ‘seize the day’, I don’t see why a cup should say anything, your drink will still taste the same no matter what is says, or does it?

‘I had it. I’m telling you, I had it,’ Levine nods while he speaks to underline his words.
‘I don’t think you had anything, you thought you had it and then what you didn’t have slipped.’ I say.
‘How is that even possible? And besides, I had it, I had it, I had it.’
‘Repeating it doesn’t make it more true. I have not received convincing evidence yet.’
‘Are you being a judge, because that doesn’t impress me. If I had it, then I had it.’
‘That simple? Now consider this, what if you thought what you had wasn’t really what you thought you had in the first place.’
‘How can that be? Either you got it, or you don’t.’

A firefighter’s truck rushes by with loud sirens and blinking lights. We all turn our heads in an instance drawn by the sudden action and most likely the excitement of the unknown. I pick up my seize-the-day-cup and dryly sip in the-return-of-the-rest.
‘You and your irony,’ says Levine to me. I shrug and smile. ‘Life is a joke.’
He takes a sip from his fuming coffee and remains silent for a moment.

‘So now you say you had it, but I say if you had it you would have it right now. Right here. Right in this moment.’
‘Now that is a little tricky.’ He puts down his mug and watches a kid throw a Lego piece at his sister.
‘I’d say he had it,’ I say.
‘I’d say he lost it.’ I laugh.
‘I’d say you lost it.’
‘I’d say I will give it to you, right here, right now.’
‘I’d say bring it on.’ I put down my mug with a sway.

Levine stretches his arms and cracks his knuckles. He’s like a magician at work. His hands make a bow towards the pocket of his jeans, he waves his fingers and reaches in. ‘If I didn’t know you better, I’d think that was pretty sexy.’
‘Thank you, I’m glad you know me better.’ Then he takes out his phone. He glances a look at me. But is interrupted by the auburn-haired waitress asking us if everything is okay. ‘Excuse me,’ I say, ‘does he have your number?’

Levine drops his arm in his lap and looks at me straight. ‘Told you, you don’t have it.’ The waitress smiles. ‘Two wine, please,’ Levine says and then turns to me again, ‘you scumbag, you miserable little shit, you cocky little player.’ He folds his arms and blushes while he speaks.

‘You are probably one of the sexiest man in the country right now. And you have to lie about having it. I think you should apologise to all other less sexy men who will never, can never and shall never have it. Because like you said, either you have it or you don’t. Now go get her number.’

‘I told you I have it.’ The waitress comes back with two totally black wineglasses. And then walks away. We pick up the glasses and examine them closely. ‘Did you order red or white wine?’

‘I ordered wine.’
‘Just wine? With the red-headed cute waitress whose number you don’t have.’
‘Don’t worry, I got this one too.’ He puts the black cold glass at his warm lips and it leaves a ring of steam on the outside. ‘White,’ he says, ‘I’m going for white.’
I take my chance at the black wine pool and come out completely different. ‘Red, for sure.’
‘No.’
‘Yes!’

‘Miss, Levine calls the waitress, ‘would you please bring us an empty glass.’
The waitress comes back with a transparent and empty glass and a napkin to clean the table.

‘Okay, what’s at stake here?’
‘Red, you are asking her number. White, I will get you in the pool for free.’
‘So I win both ways. Suits me.’ And he pours some wine into the glass on the table. Red, I smile a smug smile. Then he picks up the napkin from the table and says: ‘here.’
‘Her number! You’re that good.’
‘I told you I got it.’
‘Either you got it or you don’t. Here’s to black wine.’

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