All the cocks were limp from the alcohol and living the futile life until the hookers walked in. Suddenly, the men on the verge of tears turned into a bunch of junior high boys hovering over their first porno magazine. I was embarrassed for them but I kept pouring. When they wake up tomorrow, they won't remember what fucking assholes they were, just that there were four large tits in the room smiling for drinks, waiting to follow the first sucker to the ATM. The liquor began to disappear from the shelves and cocks turned limp again as the depressant coursed through the brains and soon the tits were forgotten and the man-hugs and "I love you, man"'s drew the crowd through the exits, into the rain, the alleys, the over-sized vehicles. The ladies had beds in need of customers and continued their shifts. I shut the lights.
I re-stocked the beer, ate some cold ravioli, bought a half pint before the law said I couldn't and got into a cab. The taxi driver said "we meet again!" And I said "yeah, you've driven me home before." Then he said, "no, I say that to everybody." I gave him my destination and didn't say anything when he took the long way. I had the window open; felt the rain blow in on my face and splash my name name tag that I forgot to take off. I walked into my building and talked to the new doorwoman for a minute. I said that "you'll probably see me rolling in here late a lot, since I work nights and like to drink." "But I'm sober now," I clarified, "which is rare," I added and opened the half-pint. "I prefer drinking during the day," I said, took a swig. The puzzled look on her face was worth a buck. I realized that I had been listening to assholes all day talk about their relationships, jobs, they spent time reasoning their existence. I had seen ass crack and tit crack and smelled beer farts and cleaned up vodka spills and explained how to get to the nearest seafood joint and "where do you get a decent meal?" (in this massive fucking city) "I don't know what I want...what's good? I've been driving all day..."
And there I was confessing to the new employee that I drink too much, offering an apology in advance for all the times you are going to see me stumble into this fucking dormitory for the working dead...fucked...up. I perpetuate the cycle which depresses me.
So I drink my whiskey and beer while taking a scorching hot shower, sweating the alcohol out just as I consume it beneath the shower head, skin turning red. The cats sit on the other side of the glass door, I can see their shapes and colors through the fogging. I wipe away the condensation and they have this look of amazement. I'm the best magician these cats have ever seen.
I turn off the water and towel off. Drink beer. Swig whiskey. I sit on the toilet and fill it with blood, piss and shit. I'm drinking a Corona. I managed to cut a lime and stuff it down the neck. I hate Corona. I'm shitting and drinking beer and whiskey. The cats rub themselves up against my shins and this makes me feel uncomfortable.
I re-stocked the beer, ate some cold ravioli, bought a half pint before the law said I couldn't and got into a cab. The taxi driver said "we meet again!" And I said "yeah, you've driven me home before." Then he said, "no, I say that to everybody." I gave him my destination and didn't say anything when he took the long way. I had the window open; felt the rain blow in on my face and splash my name name tag that I forgot to take off. I walked into my building and talked to the new doorwoman for a minute. I said that "you'll probably see me rolling in here late a lot, since I work nights and like to drink." "But I'm sober now," I clarified, "which is rare," I added and opened the half-pint. "I prefer drinking during the day," I said, took a swig. The puzzled look on her face was worth a buck. I realized that I had been listening to assholes all day talk about their relationships, jobs, they spent time reasoning their existence. I had seen ass crack and tit crack and smelled beer farts and cleaned up vodka spills and explained how to get to the nearest seafood joint and "where do you get a decent meal?" (in this massive fucking city) "I don't know what I want...what's good? I've been driving all day..."
And there I was confessing to the new employee that I drink too much, offering an apology in advance for all the times you are going to see me stumble into this fucking dormitory for the working dead...fucked...up. I perpetuate the cycle which depresses me.
So I drink my whiskey and beer while taking a scorching hot shower, sweating the alcohol out just as I consume it beneath the shower head, skin turning red. The cats sit on the other side of the glass door, I can see their shapes and colors through the fogging. I wipe away the condensation and they have this look of amazement. I'm the best magician these cats have ever seen.
I turn off the water and towel off. Drink beer. Swig whiskey. I sit on the toilet and fill it with blood, piss and shit. I'm drinking a Corona. I managed to cut a lime and stuff it down the neck. I hate Corona. I'm shitting and drinking beer and whiskey. The cats rub themselves up against my shins and this makes me feel uncomfortable.
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