the speakeasy, or whatever the hell it was called nowadays. it’s six blocks down and you can tell. tonight was no exception to the reputation it had earned. walking through the door meant being confronted by a walls length of tall hulking men, not bouncers. they ogle at the women walking by with skirts that literally embody the term “band-aid” forcing them to move robotically as to not reveal their g string adorned vaginas.
she bought a beer because a gin and tonic would be too strong. she didn’t particularly like beer, but she was thirsty. and drinking a beer appears much cooler than drinking a clear solo cup of water.
across the room is a friend surrounded by friends she does not know. she joins, albeit rather awkwardly. there’s small talk and feigned enthusiasm. three clown faced women and a man with a well worn expression approach her at the table. they are wondering if this table next to her is free. no idea. well can she watch their beers for five minutes, please? the man fumbles through his wallet and throws her three dollars. if it takes longer he’ll give her more. she holds up her end of the deal, he does not.
but three dollars is just enough for a slice of pizza. thank you tired drunk man.
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