Monday, October 8, 2012

No. 605 – Old Love


Performer: Eric Clapton
Songwriters: Eric Clapton, Robert Cray
Original Release: Journeyman
Year: 1989
Definitive Version: 24 Nights, 1991

The weeks and months immediately after Jenna and I split weren’t fun—not only for the obvious reason, but also for the simple fact that I still saw her all of the time. Remember, she was The Journal sports department’s officially sanctioned waitress at The White Horse.

I’m not particularly a masochist, but just because the whole thing between the two of us went sour was no reason to suddenly stop going there.  Besides, there wasn’t another good downtown bar that was as conveniently located. My options really were limited to either just going home or toughing it out.

Well, going home wasn’t an option, so I toughed it out. It wouldn’t be too bad, because the sports crew was fun to hang out with. Besides, when we parted, Jenna said she wanted to remain friends, and I was fine with that. The timing had been wrong, I reluctantly agreed, so I’ll back off and maybe later … well, you never know.

So every weekend, like clockwork for the next few months, I constantly was reminded of what I had and what I lost. And the more I saw Jenna, the worse I felt, mostly because it quickly became apparent that there would be no maybe later.

Everything changed. Jenna stopped coming over to chat at the end of the night and generally went out of her way to avoid having contact with the table beyond the absolutely necessary order-taking and order-fulfillment. And when her new boyfriend started showing up a couple of months later, that removed any last vestige of doubt. Like Sam Kinison said, aw make that TWO FIFTHS OF JACK DANIELS!!!

Dan noticed my condition and said there was no sense in making me bludgeon myself by going to the White Horse just to go along with the rest of the crew. He said he was happy to go somewhere else. God knows, there were plenty of bars in Flint. His money was good anywhere as long as the beer was cold. Others agreed. I appreciated that a lot, but this was just between me and me.

Around this time, The White Horse added Clapton’s Unplugged album to the jukebox, and Brendan played the acoustic version of this song enough so it became a semi-regular play. I liked it. It definitely fit my mood.

Then, one Saturday night, we showed up and Jenna wasn’t there. My mood elevated. She didn’t show up the next weekend, and Dan learned that she had gotten a new job at a restaurant on the west side of town. Suddenly, The White Horse was my bar again. I successfully toughed it out.

And I never saw Jenna again.

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