Gus Walks Into A Bar

There was a scene in a recent episode of Better Call Saul that hit close to home. Gus Fring, ordinarily a murderous drug cartel kingpin (*note, this is not the aspect I related to), was having a quiet moment drinking a glass of red wine at a bar. Soon enough, a sommelier appeared and he and Gus went on to have a conversation sprinkled with the kinds of small nods and “I remember you telling me” type comments indicating familiarity and comfort. Gus does most of the listening, reveling in the story telling of his companion who reminisces about a long ago trip to Europe and how the types of soil grapes are grown in affects the wine that they produce. Their conversation is lightly flirtatious and when they discuss a wine Gus purchased at the sommelier’s recommendation and for which Gus was waiting for a special occasion to open, it appears a more intimate conclusion to the evening is afoot. But when the sommelier excuses himself to retrieve another bottle of wine he wants to share, Gus discreetly reaches into his pocket, peels off four $100 bills, and asks the bartender to tell the sommelier he (Gus) has been called away.

 It is a sad coda. Here is a lonely man so emotionally distant from the world that he is willing to pay for a few minutes of enjoyable conversation but deny himself physical pleasure. I have a person like this in my life. Someone I get together with from time to time to just talk, mostly about what is happening in her life, her job, family, challenges she faces in working her way through the world. We go out to dinner or a movie, sometimes we just got ice cream at The Bent Spoon. It is all very innocent and a small respite for me from the reminders that I am unhappy in my own life and yet I feel awful every time I see her. She is lovely and engaging – that is not it – it is my own self-loathing that I am so damaged I need to pay someone to keep me company knowing they are (at best) just sort of nodding along.