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rest in peace

published: 2013-03-20

I stood at a crossroad sipping my latte, a guilty pleasure of mine, waiting for the light to jump on green. A guy on a motorbike was waiting too. I smiled due to a second guilty pleasure – the fantasy of hopping on the back of that old-timer B&W, holding on to the athletic waist, sliding my hand over the sculptured legs in jeans, pressing my head against leather.
I looked up, he had caught me in my smile. His own expression was one of contemplation.
It lasted only a split-second and as his light turned green – mine stayed red – I realized I knew this man.
It was Tad.
How about that? I wondered. I had forgotten all about Tad. And about how it actually was Tad who had sparked my writing, without him even knowing it. Or me for that matter. I had met Tad and for fun started writing a silly story called ‘Tad’s Cap’. He always wore a cap back then. He worked in a cool hipster bar. I never really went to cool hipster bars until those days. I was 23 and had just stepped out of a way too long lasting high-school relationship. That was when I started going out instead of sleeping.
Tad took a liking to me. We kissed a few times, had disastrously uncomfortable sex once. And I started writing about it, about Tad’s cap. I have no idea what I wrote and whether I saved it on a floppy disk or not. Tad’s cap has disappeared.
And so I found myself at a crossroad thinking about whether I should be giving up on writing, and suddenly there’s Tad. I googled him. It took me a while to find out what his last name is. Connecting him to that hipster bar helped.
The first hit I got said “Tad van Kemenade: we will miss you. Rest in Peace.”

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