Saturday, December 26, 2009

Here's to hurting tomorrow

posted up at a bartender buddy's spot to take in some Dive bar noir and start the night off right. It's the type of bar you can't help but appreciate: it knows exactly what it is. They have specials every night but Saturday. The mix is everything from lower socioeconomic backgr's to college kids with fake ID's. There is no pretense. There is no bullsh**.

At any rate, I hassled with some cabbies then made my way downtown to meet a buddy. We posted up and began drinking at breakneck speed. We don't see one another often, so when we do, it's time to throw down. We spit some game at various girls but it was a young girl/capricious crowd.
It was a strange bunch. None of them even looked remotely 21, which begged a few questions. Where did their parents think they were, how did they find fake ID's good enough to pass for legit with their young/doll faces?
An Asian girl tongued me down with her eyes but her masculine-ish jawline put me off. Another bob-haired Blonde threw me the lascivious eyes but she stupidly placed herself in the midst of a massive atom bomb of obnoxious, loud, drunk girls her age and I wasn't all that hard up.
I can't even remember the end of the night, save knowing that I took a cab home and somehow on autopilot made it to my bed naked and blackout drunk.
Another night on the prowl. Another night without finding what I'm looking for. Talk about diminishing returns.

Play: I sit and sip some ***** Stout and eat reheated Chinese food on the floor of my place. I am an emotionally unavailable/vacant man-child. I am a walking, talking, breathing, living cliche. But then, cliches exist for a reason, don't they? I head to my favorite cafe as soon as I put on some pants, finish jerking off, then to a favorite bookstore to charade away the day in normalcy before heading out into the brink anon with a compatriot.

It could be worse. I could be married. Divorced. Have kids. Have kids I don't see b/c of a divorce. I could be locked into a mortgage. I could be out of a job. All in all, things aren't bad.

Cheers. Here's to hurting tomorrow.
-With Greatest Affection

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