March 20th 2016
Today, well technically yesterday, although also technically today, I had a conversation with a drunk man in a toilet. Last night I went out drinking, so I wasn’t in any shape to tell this story when I got home, so I’m telling it now.
As part of ‘going out’ I find that people often make friends really easily, and that often happens in the toilet, probably because it’s the only place in the club where you can have a conversation. I was talking to this guy whilst washing my hands, and we chit-chatted and asked each other how our nights had been.
“Pretty good thanks mate,” I said. “Yours?”
“Not great. My mum died on Tuesday so I’m pretty fucked up,” he said.
And then I didn’t know what to say. He told me “don’t say sorry, it’s not your fault” so I just gave him a hug because I didn’t know what to do. He then told me that it’s two years since his dad died, then he introduced me to his best mate, who, he said, is the only thing that is getting him through this week.
I hugged him too. I still didn’t know what to say.
Then he said one of the most poignant and beautiful things I’ve ever heard from a drunk person in a toilet.
“It’s made me appreciate the brevity of life, and taught me to take every breath as if there will not be another. Never waste a day, because it might be your last.”
That’s a man who has suffered, who has cried, but who is coping. And it made me so sad, but it was great advice.
Because you really don’t know. Because life is short. And we only get one go, that I know of.
Until tomorrow, it would be a damn shame to waste it.