Play it Again Sam Pt. 04

But I didn't come here for apologies.

Dr. Dick was standing at the foot of the bed, between and to the side of my wife and I. He was keeping very still, probably not wanting to escalate the situation. That's exactly what I was looking for. I hadn't attacked him, so he wasn't defending himself.

I needed a fight. I needed him angry.

On my way to the bedroom I had worked up a big ball of phlegm and saliva.

I calmly stepped forward and spit it in his face.

He was stunned for a couple seconds, then he roared and launched himself at me.

Peters led with a big over-hand right. Before I would have tried to block or duck the punch. Now I used my footwork to avoid it. Step back, Step forward. On the step back, Peters' punch whistled past my nose. Step forward, I buried my fist in his stomach.

Dr. Dick stumbled back, hunched over. Now that I knew how to put my body weight into my strikes, they had a lot more power than my old flailing.

I wanted to keep the pressure on. I lunged forward and struck him in the face. Not a punch, because Dr. Dick had a glass jaw. No, I bitch slapped him. He was more insulted than hurt.

He came at me with a flurry of punches. Now he was taking me seriously, being careful not to overextend himself like he had with his first punch. But I was a better fighter than he was now, and I had a much longer reach. I easily evaded the majority of Peters' strikes.

Dr. Dick wasn't fairing so well.

I was hampered because I knew hitting him too hard in the head would end the fight prematurely. But I worked his body over something fierce. I probably broke at least half his ribs and his entire torso would be black and blue.

Peters was really hurting. I think he would have tried to call a truce if I had showed any signs of relenting. He obviously trained at some kind of mixed martial arts gym. He kept trying to get in close and grapple with me, to mitigate my size advantage. Because I was concentrating on body shots, his hands were lowered to try to protect his midsection. I doubt he had the presence of mind to wonder why I wasn't punching him in the face.

But every time he tried to shoot in close, I made an exception, and snapped a jab to his face. Even though I stayed away from his jaw and didn't use full power, every jab staggered him back and left him woozy. This guy had a hair trigger. I was more worried that he would pass out, than that he would actually manage to hurt me.

In retrospect, I might have trained a little too long and hard for this fight. I was imagining a battle royale and was getting a pillow fight. I had thought this fight would be cathartic, but Peters was a much bigger challenge in my memory then he was in real life.

I was about ready to wrap it up.

I let Dr. Dick back up and get some distance without following him. I could see him shuffling his feet. I knew from our first fight that he liked to kick. He hadn't had a chance yet, not enough space. But now he was ready to try his chances.

Despite what Carl Douglas said, everybody is not kung fu fighting. A lot of bad things can happen when you get caught with a foot in the air. You have to be a hell of a good fighter to get away with a kick against someone who knows what he's doing.

Dr. Dick wound up and launched a front kick at my chest, which I side stepped. Hapkido teaches a lot of two kick combinations. I snapped my left leg forward into his exposed groin, then in the same motion up into his head.

He'd have to wait for the full effect of the nut shot until he woke up.

Julie was still sitting on the bed, her wide eyes sweeping back and forth between me and the crumpled form of Dr. Dick. She probably wondered when her husband turned into Bruce Lee. My instinct was to make a joke about it. I'd spent seven years trying to make her laugh.

But not anymore. I'd done what I came for. I was two steps down the stairs before she started screaming at me to wait, but like I said, I didn't need her apologies.

...

Friday July 15 ^th , 2016 Day 708

"What is love? Baby don't hurt me....don't hurt me....no more"

Kicking Dr. Dick's ass had been anti-climactic. I was glad I did it, but I realized that the journey had been more important than the destination.

I won't bore you with the details of how I spent every day in the time loop.

I had previously spent a great deal of time trying to entertain myself. Martial arts training taught me that I got a lot more enjoyment from trying to improve myself.

I read voraciously.

I attempted to learn an instrument, but found I had no ear for music. I could carry a tune, but was hopeless at differentiating one note from another.

I learned new languages, which I found I had a talent for. In addition to the language teaching software, you can find pretty much any immigrant population you care to in New York, and immerse yourself in the language. I learned French, Spanish, and German.

But the first language I learned was one I wouldn't have had any interest in before the loop- Korean.

I continued to spend a lot of time at Sung's dojo. Sung spoke broken English, but I got him to open up much more after I could converse in his native tongue.

Plus, Sung had a sister, Mi-Sook, who was a stone fox, and she didn't speak English at all. Or so I thought. I had some thought of making a move on her. She checked all my boxes as far as physical attraction. But once I could speak to her in Korean, she couldn't so easily ignore me. I found out she could speak English, she just didn't like me for whatever reason.

I was still glad I had learned the language.

I read books on a large variety of subjects. If I ever got out of the loop I would be a true renaissance man.

....

I still took a day every now and then to have some fun.

I spent almost 200 grand putting together an impromptu street festival in Central Park. I had tables, chairs, and several stands with temp workers handing out refreshments.

A giant banner read "Happy National Tapioca Pudding Day!"

I stood on a small stage surrounding by eight foot high stacks of pudding cups. I used a bullhorn to let the masses hear my message.

"Today! This greatest of days! Is National Tapioca Pudding Day! Please step up and receive your free pudding! Come one, come all! Free pudding!"

I started with a U-Haul truck full of pudding, with several wholesale suppliers scheduled to deliver throughout the day. It cost an arm and a leg to gather that much pudding and get it delivered in a day.

I had dancers in skimpy outfits and a DJ.

I had girls in bikini's playing in kiddie pools full of pudding (actually water with corn starch and food coloring).

The police shut me down after a couple hours, before any of my extra pudding could be dropped off.

"Sir, do you have permits for all this?"

"Believe me, I tried. But the city moves too slow and pudding waits on no man."

"We're going to need you to shut down now and clean up this mess. You can't serve food without a license."

"It's prepackaged pudding! It doesn't even need to be refrigerated."

The officer didn't like me arguing with him.

"Sir, you are already looking at a hefty fine here. Don't make me ask you again. Shut it down."

I nodded like I was going to do it, then got back on stage.

"People! The man wants to take your pudding! This day will never end if you don't eat your pudding! POWER TO THE PUDDING! POWER TO THE PUDDING!"

New Yorkers love a good show. About fifty people took up my "power to the pudding" chant as I jumped off the stage and ran from the cops. I grabbed an armful of pudding cups off one of the tables and started throwing them to people who didn't have any, until the police tackled me.

I spent the rest of the day in jail. The pudding gods were not appeased.

...

Another day, I had a Broadway makeup artist fit me with a wig of long, dirty looking hair, and a wispy fake chin beard. Then I went to a thrift store and bought a mismatched set of raggedy clothes.

Looking the part, I went to an open mic night at a hipster bar in Chelsea.

"I'd like to read a poem, from a personal hero of mine. He was a doctor, a man of science, but his words touch my soul, speak to my inner child."

I cleared my throat.

"One fish..........two fish.

Red fish............blue fish."

I was forced to reevaluate of hipsters. They let me finish and didn't get offended. They actual laughed with me, when I came to laugh at them. I felt a little like a heel...but I still did it several more times at other hipster hang outs. Their sense of humor made it even more fun than I had expected.

...

Mostly, I talked to people. I'd been a little shy as a child, and the reticence had left me with few friends as an adult.

None now.

All my friends had been shared ones with Julie, and I knew that most if not all were aware that Julie was cuckolding me. I wasn't close enough to any of them to take a poll, and I wouldn't want to have any association with that crowd anymore regardless.

So, I was on the hunt for new friends. I couldn't develop much of a friendship in one day, but I could be on the lookout for good candidates. People I would make the effort to include in my life if I got out of the time loop.

Sung was at the top of that list, but there were several more that I met and clicked with. Of course to them I was a stranger.

Being the eternal stranger to people I had met dozens, or even hundreds of times, could wear on me sometimes. I was tempted to go back to my wife occasionally, just to get some affection.

I managed to stave off that idea by coming up with a new plan.

My parents had me late in life, and were now retired in Florida. A three hour flight and I was in the bosom of unconditional love.

I also dated. Forming a real relationship was out, but I could use dating apps and go to clubs. I was forced into the kind of encounters that I had eschewed in college, but I was thinking maybe I had been too picky.

I had several one night stands and I also went to call girls occasionally. More often, I had strictly platonic dates with women who weren't willing to jump straight into bed. I thought that several of them might be relationship material, but it's hard to tell when you can't get past first impressions.

...

I talked to my wife several times.

I debated whether talking to her was even necessary. I knew her innermost thoughts and feelings from reading her diary. She would never be as forthcoming with me as she was in the diary.

I knew exactly why she cheated and I knew exactly how she thought about me. The two were contradictory. Being a serial cheater didn't seem to mesh with how much she loved me.

Still, I felt I should give her the chance. Maybe being caught would give her a new perspective.

I talked to her several times. I won't bore you with all her guilty blather. She did a lot of begging and promising to never stray again if I would give her another chance. Really, I only had a couple questions for her. I'll tell you about how our last conversation ended.

...

Julie and I were in the living room, her on the couch and me on a chair. She was mostly cried out. I had to let her work her way through some tissues before I could get a coherent sentence out of her. Like I thought, she never lied to me, but she didn't volunteer details unless I pulled them out of her. I had to make clear that I knew Peters wasn't the first. That always came as quite a shock to her.

"So tell me Julie, why did you cheat on me?"

"Oh god, Sam. Dr. Peters... he... I won't say he seduced me, but he's a very forceful personality. I know that's no excuse. I don't have a good reason. Nothing that would excuse my behavior."

That was all true, but neatly sidestepped the larger issue.

"And what about all the men before Peters?"

Julie went white. She was momentarily at a loss for words as her hopes for reconciliation went up in smoke. She didn't deny it.

"Did...did someone tell you?"

"Who would tell me Julie? How many of our friends knew? How many people think I'm a laughing stock because of you?"

"Nobody laughs at you!" she gulped. "Nobody. Everyone loves you Sam. They wouldn't laugh at you. Some...some of them know. I've been caught before. But that's a reflection on me, not you baby."

"Really?" I asked. "That's a nice thought, but it doesn't wash. Nobody let me know. They stayed friends with you, even though they knew you were a duplicitous bitch. How could they respect me? I'm the outsider. You all have a secret, and the only one who wasn't let in on it was me. They love me? Bullshit."

Julie flinched at being called a bitch. I had called her worse earlier, but she wasn't used to contempt from me. Once again there was a long silence. These conversation were one part talking to three parts naval gazing.

"Sam... I see what you're saying. I...never thought of it like that. I just know that none of our friends have ever said anything bad about you. I'm sorry...I'm sorry if my actions have hurt your relationship with them. But if none of them told you...how...how did you know there were others?"

"First, how I know is irrelevant. Second, you've been ducking the question. Why?"

Julie sighed.

"I'm not trying to duck the question, I just don't know quite what to say. I've been thinking about it. I guess the real answer is... because I could. Because I never truly thought I would get caught. I thought I could have fun without hurting you."

That wasn't anywhere in her diary, though it rang true. At least now. But I figured she would never tell me why she started, if she had a choice in the matter.

"I read your diary."

Julie sprang up and ran to the bathroom. I could hear her emptying her stomach in there. It was about twenty minutes before she could gather herself and come back to the living room.

I had thought she was cried out, but she must have held some tears in reserve.

"I'm so, so, so sorry. I... I can't... I don't know how..." She trailed off into silence.

"Yeah, that pretty much sums it up. Still want to say that nobody was laughing at me? So... you couldn't get your rocks off with me huh? I don't measure up?"

"NO! I mean yes! You do. I... I just thought I needed more... I was young and stupid...and then...then...when I didn't get caught..."

She took a deep breath.

"Sam, you DO satisfy me. If...if you read my diary, you must know that that stopped being an excuse-"

"IT WAS NEVER AN EXCUSE!" I shouted as I pounded my fist on our coffee table. I broke the glass top and cut my hand. I just sat back and pressed my hand into the chair arm. It would heal.

Julie had jumped.

"Is...is there no hope? I love you more than I've ever loved anyone. I'll change. I'll never do it again," she whimpered. "Do you think you can ever forgive me, give me another...another chance?"

Could she change? I thought she probably could. But I could never forget what she had done to me. If an enemy had hurt me this bad, I might have killed them. Of course an enemy could never hurt me this bad, only someone you let into your heart. Once you let them in, you have to trust them.

I could never open myself up to Julie like that again.

"No, there's no more 'us.' I believe you love me Julie, but you're wrong. You love yourself more. You didn't love me enough to put me first. You didn't love me enough to be patient with me, to deny yourself some pleasure. All you had to do was wait, or better yet, help me. You're a very shallow woman Julie. I only wish I'd seen it sooner.

"Goodbye, Julie."

...

Even at my angriest, I never got physical with Julie. I was tempted, sorely tempted. I could do it, and get away with it. But I didn't, for two reasons.

First, I still didn't know how the time loop worked. I knew that I was reliving the same day over and over. But nobody else was. One of my early theories was that maybe there were multiple dimensions. Could I be a nexus point, where multiple futures branched off? Could my actions have consequences for others, even if not for me? I didn't know. But I wasn't willing to hurt someone for fun, if there was even a chance that they would have to live with the consequences.

But that was a very small probability.

The second, and much more important reason that I never hurt Julie, was that I simply didn't want to be that guy. My father liked to paraphrase a quote by playwright Sigmund Miller- "True character is what you do when no one is watching."

I shouldn't let my base nature override my morals just because I could do anything without consequence. I needed to reign myself in especially because I could get away with it. I don't know if karma is a real thing, but I do believe that some things...stain a man.

Plus, torturing Julie wouldn't help me get over her. I would be happier if I could forget her, and not keep ripping off the bandage.

I even stopped coming home with a water hose.

I had no choice but to wake up twenty feet from my wife every morning, but one day, I looked back and realized I hadn't seen her in over a year.

...

Friday July 15 ^th , 2016 Day 1382

"What is love? Baby don't hurt me....don't hurt me....no more"

I'm ashamed it took me so long to get a clue as to the nature of the time loop. Or maybe not it's nature. I still don't have a firm grasp of that. But maybe the...mechanism by which it worked.

I went to sleep most nights.

That sounds simple, but I didn't need to. I woke up every morning with the same energy and level of rest, no matter what I had done or how late I had stayed up the night before. So, I didn't need to sleep, ever.

But I still did. Going to sleep at the end of the day just felt natural. And even if I couldn't tell a difference the next day, it just felt right to rest.

As time went on, I slept less. When I was making a concerted effort to date and make friends, starting over became more of a detriment. New York is the city that never sleeps, so I could easily spend every hour of every day meeting and talking to new people.

Right from the beginning of my time in the loop, I had occasionally stayed up all night. I thought that my day ended at 5am every night, and then I would wake up at 5am Friday morning.

But when I started staying up more often, I noticed something. Well, two things.

First, my day did not reset at 5am. It actually reset at 4:58 and 26 seconds. It was close enough that I had never noticed. I didn't know what it meant, but it felt significant.

Second, if I didn't fall asleep, my day ended at 4:58 with a flash of light. Now this I had noticed soon after entering the loop, but hadn't attached any significance to it. It was very fast. So fast that it was more an impression of light, than actual light. I thought it was just a trick of my mind as I transitioned from out and about, to suddenly waking up in bed.

Now, you have to understand that I spent 99 days out of 100 in New York. If you could spend every day in the Big Apple or Trenton, New Jersey, which would you pick?

So it was one of the rare days I spent in Trenton.

I had bought a novel at Barnes & Noble. I wanted to finish it that night so I wouldn't have to buy it again the next day. As usual, I was ending the day in a hotel. I finished the novel and looked at my phone to check the time- 4:53. No point trying to sleep. I watched the time tick down to my reset, then woke up the next morning.

No flash.

What the hell?

By now I had come to think of the flash of light as normal. Its absence almost made me freak out. I stayed in Trenton that day again- still no flash.

Okay, time to experiment.

I went back to New York and stayed up. There was the flash again.