Thursday blues

There was a time, not so long ago, that I looked forward to Thursday.

Every Thursday evening I would meet a small group of my closest friends at Taby’s — a small establishment along Maginhawa Street in Sikatuna Village — to engage in long, drawn-out conversations  over seemingly endless rounds of San Mig Light. Our discussions would cover a diverse array of topics, ranging from the profound to the prosaic to the obscene to the downright obscene, and they would last, as most drunken conversations do, well past the time decent, law-abiding, god-fearing citizens would be expected to be home in bed.

These Thursday “appointments” were kept with a commitment bordering on religious fervor. Neither typhoons nor coup attempts nor the explicit disapproval of spouses and girlfriends could keep us from our Thursday beer and conversation.

But sadly, those days are gone. Life and local politics have conspired to deprive us of these Thursday gatherings, and I, for one, believe we are the poorer for it.

To start, Taby’s closed down a few months ago, after some homeowners in the area apparently complained to barangay officials. Something regarding noise and a consequent lack of sleep, or some other, equally unreasonable, issue. After all, how can you put the alleged need for sleep on the same plane as the incontestible necessity to have drunken discussions with one’s friends? At any rate, though we’ve tried to look for an alternate venue, we have yet to find one as comfortable or convenient.

Work schedules for some of my friends have also shifted, making it less convenient for them to meet on Thursday evenings. So the Thursday gathering, observed so religiously before, has become a far less certain affair. The near blasphemous idea of shifting to Wednesday has even been raised; I mean who ever heard of drinking on a Wednesday?

So now, Thursday is just another day, when we might or might not meet for drinks and conversation. Just another day indistinguishable from the rest of the humdrum week. One more pillar of stability in an otherwise chaotic existence toppled and forgotten.

How does one cope with such meaninglessness?