I wasn’t really paying attention to much of what she was saying, mostly I was just waiting for my own turn to talk, to let her know how I felt, yet again.
Like always, all I heard from the inert phone was
“You know I’ll always love you, come find me someday, I can’t follow you down your road.”
She was right; even through the drunken fog precicipating the moisture of my despair, it all seemed to make sense for a moment. For a split second I actually felt free, free of her. I let the payphone drop out of my hand, and sort of stumbled backwards, coming to a lazy leaning position against the wall opposite the payphone found in this dark back corridor of some random bar.
“I’m such a fuckup” I said outloud coincidentally, as a man rounded the corner and proceeded into the bathroom after giving me an annoyed look. I felt like this further confirmed my theory; although I suppose I was glad that it wasn’t a look of pity. Just another annoying fuckup in some bar, at least I belonged in some sort of fashion. Good old demographic belonging. I giggled drunkenly at this and rolled off the wall in that way where you don’t use your hands at all.
“Time to pick me up a whore!”
The words seemed to just come out, but I liked the sound of them nonetheless. In agreement with the motion in my mouth, I set myself into movement and made my way out to the main bar area. For a tuesday night I had to admit it wasn’t particularly busy, although it was unpoportionately smokey for some reason. I forget what the name of the place was, suffice it to say, it’s the type of place that is open late on a tuesday night. Tables, booths, a bar, drunk people. It’s all you really need when you break it down. Instead of the usual straight line approach, I opted to decipher the maze of tables and chairs that can spring into existence after a certain number of drinks.
“Good to see you found your way back here Casanova, you sure you’re gonna be able to navigate yourself out of here if you have any more?” the bartender welcomed me back, wiping down the counter with a cloth. He wasn’t all that old, and I suspected him to be a cokehead, but earlier on, when he gave me that extra shot of tequila I could tell he had a heart of gold, and helped me to see more into my stomach.
“Listen,… it may be some sort of ‘wooden’ chair jungle, but I’m the master of navigation, I sail the seas with my dick as a compass”
The bartender gave me a look for a couple seconds before proceeding to pour a couple more shots as I fetched another bill from my wallet.
“So did you talk to her?”
Ignoring the question I picked up one of the shots of tequila, downed it, and proceeded into one of my own. “How do you let yourself completely… let go?” I slurred out, eagerly anticipating the bartenders response.
Naturally the bartender said, “What?”
“I mean… how do you truly fall in love, how do you let it all go… knowing that one day you could loose it, and a part of yourself with them? I mean… people die, they break up…” I trailed off, getting depressed again, I picked up another shot and downed it. “It’s so easy to float on the equator… instead of riding the roller coaster from heaven to hell. Hell fucking sucks… buddy” I gestured around, “I hate to be the one to tell you, but your bar is hell. You have a hellbar”
“Now… that’s a new one”
I picked up the 3rd and last shot but my stomach didn’t feel so well so I held off for a second. “Seriously though, you didn’t answer my question… can you sit inside the pinyata in ecstacy, knowing that one day something might take a swing and break your world apart?”
The bartender fiddled with his towel as he pondered how to respond. “I dunno man… it just sort of happened. I didn’t really think about it too much. It’s worth it though, love that is”
I downed the last shot. “Yeah… .” I said and sort of trailed off in thought.
***
The next thing I remember was fucking some woman. I didn’t pass out, but I couldn’t remember how I got to to her house. Like the mental record was spinning, but without the needle actually touching until now. She was on her back, and I had to say, I approved of my blackout self’s selection. The thing that truly amazed me was that during this self actualization, I didn’t even miss a stroke. Judging from her expression though, I think she started to enjoy the touch of my recently reanimated body as opposed to before. “I’m really drunk” I announced and started laughing as I considered adding ‘Nice to meet you’
“I know…” she said with a genuine smile, “Don’t stop though… you feel so good…” she said trailing off into a moan, apparently content with ending our greeting there.
As I thrusted away I looked around the bedroom, I noticed my jacket sitting on a chair, my clothes were on the floor along with hers. I noticed a mini christmas tree sitting on a small table in one of the corners; even though I couldn’t remember, I had a feeling she had a life sized one in the main room. ‘Life sized’ - what a strange expression. I also noticed that it was snowing outside. It was at this point that I turned my attention back to the task at hand and looking down at my dick for the first time I saw the candycane condom I had on. “Now that… is fucking brilliant” I thought to myself. I sucked on her neck while she sucked on the hard suger cynlinder. Everyone wants a little candy and affection around the holidays.
Afterwords as I lay there with her asleep next to me I watched the snow fall outside. Each flake so original as they paraded past the glass, yet the snow on the ground all looks the identical. Every footstep home always looks the exact same.