this is for tuesday

[one hundred, forty-four]

If it were stumbling he wanted, stumbling he did. I didn’t know really what he was saying, since his mouth was moving and I’m sure he said something but I was focusing on his teeth. That would sound peculiar, and it could sound quite normal. But, alas, I am not psychotic and not a dentist, so neither of those fit the missing piece of this puzzle. I was merely dazzled by the fact that they were white. Here we are, in a stingy bar, drinking rum and singing country songs, and he just has the whitest teeth. He just came out of the bathroom, and I sort of laughed because I was waiting in the other line but he was talking to me. Maybe it wasn’t me, after all, but it surely wasn;t to himself or his buddies. His eyes, I think, had the haziest, most distant look. I could’ve swarn he might’ve been talking to his dead grandma or the postman in some far off land, but he was still showing those pearly whites, and I could’ve sworn he was talking to me.

It is weird, when you’re in a bar, when you see all of these people. The people who probably did the same thing as you. They got ready, changed their clothes a bunch of times to look perfect, brushed their teeth so much it hurt, did their hair and burnt their hands on the way. Trembled into shoes they knew would hurt them by the end of the night. They got their drinks out and sat drinking with their friends, then called a cab and got to the bar late. It would be dark, but when you get in there it’s like everyone knows eachother, or you’re at a large house party where you don’t know too many people, but the guy right beside you smells like cologne and that is a nice smell so you kinda lean into him a little. It’s always a little packed, or not really, and if it’s inbetween you know you came on a bad night.

My favourite bar nights seem to be the nights where either: a)I am rather intoxicated and I end up dancing ALL NIGHT with my best friends, or b)I am rather intoxicated and spend the night listening to fabulous music and dying from laughing too hard with my best friends. I don’t think you can do it any other way, if you can I don’t know how, but I rather like my system the way it is.

Call me an alcoholic, I don’t really drink that much I just like the atmosphere mentioned above. If you’re not nineteen, probably a good thing, the bar may be cheap but it ain’t free. If you are nineteen, give me a call, we’ll go out, and I will laugh and sing and tell you “I LOVE THIS SONG” so any song really, as long as I love it... And there aren’t many that I don’t love (that’s a hyperbole, I clearly hate lots of songs.... I just love a lot as well) Have a lovely evening!

Jess :]