Dear Luci
WHO: Luciano and Raivis
WHERE: A bar barring none (Chueca)
WHEN: Dec. 2, evening (Back to the future~)
WHAT: Advice. It's frequently asked for and frequently given. And maybe, every once and a while, a bit horribly misinterpreted...
RATING: 'W' for 'Where are you putting your hands?!'
A person is one step away from each person they know and two steps away from each person who is known by one of the people they know, and everyone is at most six steps away from every other person on the planet.
Raivis was one step away from Ivan Braginski, two steps away from Doctor Braginski's eldest sibling Katarina and six steps away from walking into that bar in the boldest- or perhaps most ridiculous- attempt to strengthen his proverbial spine he had ever made. The cast and the sling made him feel uncomfortably conspicuous walking in and the setting itself, as relatively oddly familiar and crowded as it was, brought a churning nausea to his gut as that silent promise to 'never drink again' cycled on repeat, constant under the nervous buzzing of 'I shouldn't be doing this' and 'now or never'.
It was a blog entry that once again introduced him to an acquaintance met some months before. A vibrant, handsome fellow whose dazzling smile and impressive kindness had left an imprint in his mind that piqued an interest in the other man's offer to help. Not one for venturing out at the risk of inciting a relative's wrath, he nonetheless bravely went where before a Galante had feared to tread. He found himself nervously glancing over nameless face to nameless face to 'that person looks vaguely familiar' as he wandered in uncertain, hopeful, anxious and damn near trying to keep a professionally passive demeanor to remain undisturbed as he passed into a multitude of casually drinking, dancing and socializing patrons.
The scent of alcohol was pervasive. An alluring aroma after so long an abstinence, but when Raivis pulled out a stool at the bar and set himself down in it, giving a menu that had been left there- with its brief selection of delicacies including but not limited to wings, fries and onion rings- a precursory glance, he listened to the mantra 'never again' and delicately set it down.
He'd order an iced tea.
Raivis took another long, probing look around the establishment then, slowly, placed his face in a palm as he tried to keep his ghosts at bay.
Maybe just one long island iced tea wouldn't be so bad.
WHERE: A bar barring none (Chueca)
WHEN: Dec. 2, evening (Back to the future~)
WHAT: Advice. It's frequently asked for and frequently given. And maybe, every once and a while, a bit horribly misinterpreted...
RATING: 'W' for 'Where are you putting your hands?!'
A person is one step away from each person they know and two steps away from each person who is known by one of the people they know, and everyone is at most six steps away from every other person on the planet.
Raivis was one step away from Ivan Braginski, two steps away from Doctor Braginski's eldest sibling Katarina and six steps away from walking into that bar in the boldest- or perhaps most ridiculous- attempt to strengthen his proverbial spine he had ever made. The cast and the sling made him feel uncomfortably conspicuous walking in and the setting itself, as relatively oddly familiar and crowded as it was, brought a churning nausea to his gut as that silent promise to 'never drink again' cycled on repeat, constant under the nervous buzzing of 'I shouldn't be doing this' and 'now or never'.
It was a blog entry that once again introduced him to an acquaintance met some months before. A vibrant, handsome fellow whose dazzling smile and impressive kindness had left an imprint in his mind that piqued an interest in the other man's offer to help. Not one for venturing out at the risk of inciting a relative's wrath, he nonetheless bravely went where before a Galante had feared to tread. He found himself nervously glancing over nameless face to nameless face to 'that person looks vaguely familiar' as he wandered in uncertain, hopeful, anxious and damn near trying to keep a professionally passive demeanor to remain undisturbed as he passed into a multitude of casually drinking, dancing and socializing patrons.
The scent of alcohol was pervasive. An alluring aroma after so long an abstinence, but when Raivis pulled out a stool at the bar and set himself down in it, giving a menu that had been left there- with its brief selection of delicacies including but not limited to wings, fries and onion rings- a precursory glance, he listened to the mantra 'never again' and delicately set it down.
He'd order an iced tea.
Raivis took another long, probing look around the establishment then, slowly, placed his face in a palm as he tried to keep his ghosts at bay.
Maybe just one long island iced tea wouldn't be so bad.