(no subject)
Short Story that I wrote at work because I'm bored.
Fire
Thats what it feels like is slding down your throat when you do a doubleshot of 151 and you fail to follow it with a chaser. I quickly place the shot glass down on the bar and motion to the barkeep for another.
"You can't keep doing this. You have to face it sometime." pipes up my rotund friend that I'd forgotten came in with me. Other things were on my mind now. "Stop drinking now, you won't be able to think in a few minutes."
I ignore him and slam another shot down. My concious and memory should be disappearing within the next few minutes. Rational thought will be at a premium soon, so I'll have to make the most of it.
"She shouldn't be marrying him. She doesn't love him. She loves me, I know it." The alcohol is starting to slur my speech and retard my vocabulary. I sound like a third grader professing my schoolyard love. I motion for another drink. The barkeep hesitates slightly, but pours another. His body language tells me that after this, the nectar of life will not flow in this location for me.
"She's engaged now, you've had your chance. Just leave it alone and move on. Here, I'll buy you this drink and then we'll go." My friend drops a ten down on the bar. "You'll pass out and won't even remember tonight. Start fresh and new tomorrow. Aren't you dating that Sarah chick? She's pretty hot."
That vapid waste of space masquarading as a human doesn't even qualify for a position to warm the toilet for my love. I should break up with her, but she does make these amazing scrambled eggs the morning after I take advantage of her affection night after night.
My head is starting to swim. Thats a good sign. Once I feel that I'm in a complete haze my job here is done. I attempt to stand but my feet decide not to follow the general orders of my body. My left foot decides to shoot out to the right and the right ankle gives up completely and rolls under the weight of my body. My hand grasps at the bar in a futile attempt to steady myself, but all that the fingers can find is the wetspot were my drink had been residing. I do my best impersonation of a flailing drunk, which ironicly I'm becoming, and fall into a heap on the floor. Everyone in the bar stops for a moment to look at, in pity or disguist, the drunk on the floor. Seconds later everyone has returned to their activities. My nimble fall from grace erased from their minds.
My corpulent friend bends to help me up when the silouette light from the door catches my eye. I squink trying to make out the figure in the doorway, the shape is somehow familiar to me. The door closes and my heart leaps from my chest into the waiting arms of my love who now stands mearly fifteen feet from me.
She glances around the room looking at all the upright sapiens obviously looking for something or someone one. It took a moment for her to move her gaze down toward the floor where the lesser primates are destined to live. She fixes her sights on me in all my glory and walks over.
I do my best to stand but I'm forced to steady myself on the bar which a few moments ago had deserted me in my quest to stay upright. I didn't trust it but it was all that I had. The bar, my friend, and time seemed to fade in nothing. All that existed was my love and myself. I prepared for the worst.
"I hope I'm not to late." sang the angel the perfect voice. "I had to find you and tell you something." I yearned for more. Each perfect word that exited her mouth was like a verbal orgasm for my mind.
"I don't love Steve and I don't really want to marry him. I think...I think I'm still in love with you. I hope you feel the same way, I wish I could have told you earlier, but, um, I just came the conclusion myself just a little bit ago." The hopeful look in her eyes nearly sent me back to floor.
My alcohol addled mind tries to comprehend the flood of emotions that I'm feeling. Everything thats happened in the past between us and all the feelings come flooding back to me in a bad movie montage. There are so many things I want to say to her but only one thing comes to mind.
I open my mouth like a slack jawed fish ready to confess my true feelings for her. The rumble in my stomach annouces, though, that there will be no happy ending in sight for me. I never imagined that my stomach could hold such a vile mix of acid, alochol and cheap fast food for as long as it did. It's a trooper but the iron maiden that is my stomach decided to revolt at the wrong time. Seconds seemed to stretch into hours as the greyish green mess vacated from every oriface of my body, drenching my love in my depression cocktail. All I could do is stand there in horror as every dream and fantasy of mine dripped from her hair and clothes onto the floor.
I slowly open my mouth again making sure that the object of my horror doesn't decide to make another appearance. My action and the thing I say now are the only thing that can salvage this dream. I must tread carefully.
"Uh, do you need a napkin?"
Damn I'm smooth.
Fire
Thats what it feels like is slding down your throat when you do a doubleshot of 151 and you fail to follow it with a chaser. I quickly place the shot glass down on the bar and motion to the barkeep for another.
"You can't keep doing this. You have to face it sometime." pipes up my rotund friend that I'd forgotten came in with me. Other things were on my mind now. "Stop drinking now, you won't be able to think in a few minutes."
I ignore him and slam another shot down. My concious and memory should be disappearing within the next few minutes. Rational thought will be at a premium soon, so I'll have to make the most of it.
"She shouldn't be marrying him. She doesn't love him. She loves me, I know it." The alcohol is starting to slur my speech and retard my vocabulary. I sound like a third grader professing my schoolyard love. I motion for another drink. The barkeep hesitates slightly, but pours another. His body language tells me that after this, the nectar of life will not flow in this location for me.
"She's engaged now, you've had your chance. Just leave it alone and move on. Here, I'll buy you this drink and then we'll go." My friend drops a ten down on the bar. "You'll pass out and won't even remember tonight. Start fresh and new tomorrow. Aren't you dating that Sarah chick? She's pretty hot."
That vapid waste of space masquarading as a human doesn't even qualify for a position to warm the toilet for my love. I should break up with her, but she does make these amazing scrambled eggs the morning after I take advantage of her affection night after night.
My head is starting to swim. Thats a good sign. Once I feel that I'm in a complete haze my job here is done. I attempt to stand but my feet decide not to follow the general orders of my body. My left foot decides to shoot out to the right and the right ankle gives up completely and rolls under the weight of my body. My hand grasps at the bar in a futile attempt to steady myself, but all that the fingers can find is the wetspot were my drink had been residing. I do my best impersonation of a flailing drunk, which ironicly I'm becoming, and fall into a heap on the floor. Everyone in the bar stops for a moment to look at, in pity or disguist, the drunk on the floor. Seconds later everyone has returned to their activities. My nimble fall from grace erased from their minds.
My corpulent friend bends to help me up when the silouette light from the door catches my eye. I squink trying to make out the figure in the doorway, the shape is somehow familiar to me. The door closes and my heart leaps from my chest into the waiting arms of my love who now stands mearly fifteen feet from me.
She glances around the room looking at all the upright sapiens obviously looking for something or someone one. It took a moment for her to move her gaze down toward the floor where the lesser primates are destined to live. She fixes her sights on me in all my glory and walks over.
I do my best to stand but I'm forced to steady myself on the bar which a few moments ago had deserted me in my quest to stay upright. I didn't trust it but it was all that I had. The bar, my friend, and time seemed to fade in nothing. All that existed was my love and myself. I prepared for the worst.
"I hope I'm not to late." sang the angel the perfect voice. "I had to find you and tell you something." I yearned for more. Each perfect word that exited her mouth was like a verbal orgasm for my mind.
"I don't love Steve and I don't really want to marry him. I think...I think I'm still in love with you. I hope you feel the same way, I wish I could have told you earlier, but, um, I just came the conclusion myself just a little bit ago." The hopeful look in her eyes nearly sent me back to floor.
My alcohol addled mind tries to comprehend the flood of emotions that I'm feeling. Everything thats happened in the past between us and all the feelings come flooding back to me in a bad movie montage. There are so many things I want to say to her but only one thing comes to mind.
I open my mouth like a slack jawed fish ready to confess my true feelings for her. The rumble in my stomach annouces, though, that there will be no happy ending in sight for me. I never imagined that my stomach could hold such a vile mix of acid, alochol and cheap fast food for as long as it did. It's a trooper but the iron maiden that is my stomach decided to revolt at the wrong time. Seconds seemed to stretch into hours as the greyish green mess vacated from every oriface of my body, drenching my love in my depression cocktail. All I could do is stand there in horror as every dream and fantasy of mine dripped from her hair and clothes onto the floor.
I slowly open my mouth again making sure that the object of my horror doesn't decide to make another appearance. My action and the thing I say now are the only thing that can salvage this dream. I must tread carefully.
"Uh, do you need a napkin?"
Damn I'm smooth.