Four gentlemen. Four scholars. Four men captivated by the bar, sailing the gym with empty guts filled with swirling waves of energy drinks. Their caffeinated adventure and their midnight chatter sways them along the distant and never ending ocean made up of sugar, and birds that circle their ship of chairs and coaches tied together by the strings from each men’s shoes. Knots that pull tight just like the grip they use to hold their shaker cups, keep the boat attached, while the men roll deeper into dreams and goals they didn’t even know where there. Hands move with their mouths, while body language follows the rhythm of the conversation. Laughter rings out throughout the empty sea as one of the men ask for another shot of energy. “Hell yea!” Matt says to Ryan, as powder starts to pour like sand from a shoe. Powder that dances as it enters the cup…. a cup that will soon be shaken. Pink powder that is legal, how this is possible makes the men burst with laughter even louder than before. A drug that allows the men to feel comfortable around each other, like a beer at a business meeting, or coffee on a first date. An ice breaker, a conversation starter, a counselor of some sort, constantly begging for more truth, more discussion, more of you. Body building magazines that lay scattered on the wet deck, only to be glanced upon and then thrown to the side, leaving the magazine empty and unfulfilled.
When lost at sea the only thing to do is chug powder, crack monsters, and feel the smooth face of miss brown eyes against the palm of your hand. The yellow birds occasionally swoop down to catch a better view of the on board barrels that reek of motivation and wide eyed emotion. The gusts of wind from the splashing whales and rolling kilo plates made miss brown eyes’ hair find peace above her head, blocking out the sight of the birds as if a slide show was being played above all for men’s heads. A slide show of blue ski for miles, and clouds that made shapes of Dimas on a unicorn jumping over caffeinated waterfalls. It became quiet for a moment as all four scholars of their respected career choices drew from their rich and inviting drinks. A smack of the lips and a shake from the head was only the start of the after drink ritual. The classic look of the cup from a stretched out arm like something was wrong, meant that everything in the world was right. Chatter laid still in peace, as the sound of the boat slapping the water gave each man a moment of tranquility. Chunks of energy powder found its way on the back of each mans throat and behind the gums that always seemed to bleed when brushed. A fast chew as their eyes pinned wide, but the sight could not make out what laid in front of them from the pure concentration of the task at hand. Rocks exploded as the supplements taste and high powered electricity punched them in the face, followed this time around – by a fast and violent sip to wash the left overs down deep into the belly of the beast.
Another topic popped up like the silence was never there. The silence grabbed its doctor bag and medical kit and flew away. He was glad to leave, for he was an owl, and owls had no business being out in the middle of a ocean made up of sugar and yellow birds. The silent owl was always known for being realistic, and this situation was far from anything that lingered on making a bit of sense. To the four men reality couldn’t be more real. The spray of the ocean tasted like sugar, and the circling birds drew a certain shade that they could feel upon their skin. How could this not be reality? A reality they could taste with every sip of their mixed multi-colored contraptions they were drinking, like a pirate to his alcohol. The front room boat stayed swaying as the lobby squeezed the shoe string boat closer and closer to the tiny door that was becoming bigger and bigger. A door that became land, and land that lead to the land called gym.
Jokes and ball breaking would be soon rudely interrupted by a heavy reality. Ideas were the reflections that the men saw when they pierced through the depth of the water, as the boat swayed closer and closer to the growing door. Looking back at them was the what if’s and the how comes. Whales that rolled in circles with giant smiles upon their faces. Fish that spoke English sang songs from the 90’s, and the outer banks of the ocean came to a stop, as if the water and sea life had no where else to go. All roads led to one destination. All the whales were swimming to one location, and the birds were flying to help guide the four men home. Soon the men realized their ocean journey was over, and the front door leading out from the gym lobby and into the gym was 10 feet high and partially cracked open. Chalk dust fell like snow from the cracked door, as the music bumped through the dead end ocean walls meeting their feet and carrying up through their bodies. The energy drinks were gone, empty, now living inside them. The door flew open as the owl of silence made its way to the front of the boat, grabbing the rope with his wing and tying the boat to the long wooded post that the yellow birds momentarily made their new resting spot. “Let’s go boys……it’s time to train.” – Silent owl.