twists and turns

Ever since I found the love of my life in Jim Henson's Labyrinth, you can pretty much put that word on anything and I'll want it. I love that word. I like how it's got a "y" in it that you don't really pronounce. It makes the whole thing more mythical and mysterious. I even had this board game called Labyrinth where you had to navigate this marble through a wooden maze. There were holes in the board and it was nearly impossible. I never made it to the end.

Last night I saw Pan's Labyrinth, and it was pretty much more awesome than everyone says it is. It's a mix of fantasy and harsh reality (mostly harsh reality), and if you have a problem going to a movie and having to read subtitles, you should really get over it.

I was pretty much hooked from the first shot, and that wasn't the whiskey's work either. Beforehand, my friend and I went to this bar across the street called, fittingly enough, Last Call, where we got our own dose of harsh reality. It's pretty much the final resting place for this town's many lost, drunken souls. Everyone was chatty. As soon as we walked in, everyone had a story to tell and they were eager to share it, even though we were complete strangers. I bumped into another guy from Staten Island who said he ended up here when he took "a wrong turn on the freeway." He would turn and speak with me, occasionally looking up from the lottery scratch-off games he and his girlfriend were playing. Later, this other guy rambled about how fun that particular bar was the night before. He mumbled something about a band and women, and how he was supposed to be jamming at someone's house right now. I realized it was 8:30 and wondered how everyone was already so wasted.

The final act was a dude with a fresh knot in his forehead. He talked to us about the ease of getting chicks downtown, which is easy for everyone but me apparently. I mentioned something about lines, meaning lines of people, and he instantly took it to mean lines of drugs. He told us that he'd been clean for a while, but just did a few lines of crystal meth the night before. He said he knew what his triggers were, like he couldn't be around straws. Then he confided that his first baby was due in 10 days, and he'd heard about it while firefighting. He told us that he didn't want to be a father, but was going to make good on it. When the mother called him to tell her she was pregnant, he told her that he wanted her to keep the baby. "I'm a Christian," he said. "I don't believe in abortion." It's always unsettling when you're face to face with a stereotype.