They come and they sit and they talk and they drink coffee and beer, this I understand. But why the fuck was I here, alone, on my birthday. Alone through choice, but drinking and eager for fun, in self-imposed isolation.
The music thump thumped some disco Latin vibe, produced in a west London sound studio. It doesn’t make me angry or self-conscious, I suspect I despise these people, but I feel as if I’ve broken free, at least for now, for this moment. The tides will change later, tonight, the hard liqueur will undoubtedly follow, and I’ll make eyes with and attractive girl and stare her out and she’ll feel unsure, but find me alluring none the less. I’ll get naked and drink hard booze in the shower.
God jesus ketchup, people cover their food in that grease ball shit. Life can get so dull, dates and jobs and eating and waiting, I just need to fuck it up from time to time, just so it stops being so fucking dull. So dull I think I could kill myself some fancy way.
I’d rather drink alone, but they only sell beer in bars at this time of night and I want to drink. This is taking to long damn it, I need more beer, I can feel the urge for a bloody Mary already.