Start of something beautiful

It was the eve of my first full-time job after my masters. That wasn't a strong enough excuse to stay sober, so we stumbled from one bar to another, every passing hour getting groggier and murkier. Quite by chance, we happened upon the back room of an annoying bar. The cover was steep, which is unusual in a college town such as the one I was in. The music sounded intriguing and the smell of green was unmistakable. Down the rabbit hole we went.

The spectacle that greeted us was both unexpected and unbelievably rewarding. Onstage were three DJs, singers of several genres and color. If trip-hop was an art invented to take dopeheads to the next level, this was a temple of the high priests. Every so often, a DJ would disappear under his table and puff enough smoke to turn all his mates invisible. The tunes and voices were from another dimension and the only constant was the bitter drink in my hand.

My friend went to get a fresh drink, as I watched over his very, very drunk girlfriend. She was unable to stand steadily and was swaying to the music. I had my arm behind her back to help keep her balance, but an inch of air in between just to make sure no drunken mistakes were made. I was seemingly hugging an invisible layer around her. A black guy in dreadlocks smiled and asked me where I was from. "India", I said and he roared back with delight "I'm from Kenya man!". Indians, we're everywhere. All races feel some kinship with us, and we're expected to share the emotion. Ah well.

He suggested I hug and kiss her to "seal the deal". I told him that she was my best friend's lady love of ten years and I was only looking out for her. A heavy handshake and a slightly uncomfortable hug later, the Kenyan gushed "you're a good man!". The night wore on, and I was in a team meeting 8 hours later.

The couple broke up a month from then.