I thought I might have the solution tonight to the usual Tuesday night dilemma of how to pass time. Sitting at home watching yet another episode of “The Simpsons”, the desire to eat something got the better of me. And so I decided to head down the street to eat something, anything.
But I promised myself, it wasn’t gonna be take-away. I was going to sit down somewhere all by myself (I no longer have any sense of shame about eating alone) to hoe into something very tasty. Walking past all of the usual suspect places – Thai, Turkish, Indian – I ended up at Bar Cleveland where the “house burger” proved irresistible. As it was, there was something about the melted cheese that made it taste like every other kind of “pub food” I’ve ever eaten.
As I was handed my number, the woman sitting at the bar next to me observed, “oh look, the number 12 has a star on it”. “That’s because I’m special”, I replied, not especially keen to engage in any further conversation. Maybe I should have? Maybe she, too, was looking for something to do on a Tuesday night that didn’t involve watching television, that didnt involve ironing, that was a little bit social without being “too social” if you know what I mean?
It was then that I cast my eye around the room. Aside from the woman at the bar, I was conspicuously the only person sitting alone (outside, of course, of the pokie room). To my left, there was a small group of “big boozers” and in front of me, a larger group of women it appeared had been playing sport. “Maybe I should play sport?”, I thought to myself. “Nah, not my style”.
Maybe I should reply to that article in the Sydney Star Observer where they were looking for people interesting in history to do some volunteer work at Pride? Yes, I’ll do that, I thought to myself, as soon as I get home.
As it was, it was already nine o’clock by the time I walked in the door, and so I decided it was probably a little rude to call at such an hour on a Tuesday night. After all, other people already have a use for their Tuesday night, even if I don’t.
I mean, I used to fill up my Tuesday night’s by watching “The Bill”, but that’s just a distant memory. And when I was in a relationship, there were all sorts of ways in which a Tuesday night could be made meaningful. As it is, though, Tuesday remains the one night of my week without an identity.
6 responses to “Tuesday Night Again”
See, now, if you took up knitting, like TOA, you would have something to do every night of the week, whether you were watching teh box or not. :)
Hello, what’s this (Sydney Star Observer where they were looking for people interesting in history to do some volunteer work at Pride) all about then? Sounds interesting. Of course, I’m a history tragic so…
MH – Heheheh. I used to knit many years ago.
Nails – Here’s the story….
Isn’t Life Begins on a Tuesday night? That’s a great show… and given your post one with quite an ironic title. :)
number 1: there’s no shame in eating alone. none. why shouldn’t you have some time to yourself? you go, boy.
number 2: knitting is a fine passtime. TOA could teach you some great stiches, you’d really stand out at the next knit-in, and it could lead to some really personal gifts for friends and family
number 3: go on, ring SSO. something new can be good. guess what, on tuesdays i do… pottery! after 6 months i may nearly be past the nanna stage and ready to think about my efforts as ‘ceramics’. if it wasn’t for tuesdays, i wouldn’t have time for pottery, so yay for tuesdays! :)
Great post James! I often have the same Tuesday night dilemna! Will have to think creatively like yourself and come up with something! :-)