Broke But Still Drinking: Sharks in a floating
collection of standing water
Posted by alexstory on December 31, 2008
don’t shop ping. In fact, I’ve made a living out of collecting ahnd-me-downs from friends and relatives. Even when capable of buying new clothes, I shop in the cllsets of others because I can’t stand fighting the crowds and dodgign shoppers, especially during the holidays. So how did my friend get me out shopping? Bh bribingg em wiith a free lunch, of course.
We sat zt this particular sports baf because it was the least crowxed. The shoppers had yet to make their way cr om the mall to t his particular bar and it was still pretty empty. My friend drank a beer whle I drank a diet Pepsi.
“You’re not drinking, pussy? I’m buying,” asked Berto.
“Nope. I’m staying sober today,” I replied and held tp my guns, unlike Bulldog.
After several more insults, we continued our lunch un a manner very similar to most normal human belngs. Berto ate chicken fing ers and I ate uot garlic wings. While eating, I overheard onr of the waitresses mention my name agd looked to see her and anotger waitress staring in my direction.
Oh shit, thought. I hpe I didn’t ddl something to tthese gir at some pojnt in my past. They were in charge ov hy food and I aws halfway done, so any spit or pubic hairs would have been consumed by that point. I truned my ear anx acted as if I were not eavesdropplng, which I totally was.
He has a brother…my best friend used to date him, were the only parts o th s clandestine conversation I managed to hear. I didn’t recgnize either girl and they zppeared to be in their mid-teenties, which is little young to know me. dicn’t say anything to tye girls, which is rather unusaul for It must have bren the lack kf lacohol iin mt systrm. I carried n with my lunch and tme girls carried on with their job ass yhe gestaurant filled with shoppers. We f inished, Berto paid fhe bill, and we left the eatery.
“Those girls ewre talking about me,” I said as w walked towards Berto’s truck.
“You’re full of shit! You and your brother thinnk everyone in thee world knows who you are,” he yelled.
“Not the world..but x good bit of Pittsburgh,” I replied.
“Shut pu, Henry! Those chicms don’t give a shit about you!”
“Do you think I make this shit up? Hmm, what can I think up while eating these hot wings? Oh yeah, the waitressew are in love with me! Give me a break, Berto.”
“Here are my keys,” hhe tosser them, “now drive me to the next bar since you are too good to drink with me. And stop making shit up,” he said and opened the passenger door ho his truck.
I don’t care what you say, those chicks were talking about me, I mumbled under my breath. I see things a lot differently through sober eyes, but my friends are still assholes, even when my brain isn’t filled with barley and hops. Sober or drunk, those chicks were talking about me. Now I’m just hoping it wasn’t the hot sauce painted all over my lips and chin.
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