I want to pull a good drunk. I
need to pull a good drunk so I can blab
alllll my problems to the bartender. I want to be like those weird people of long ago who would wander into the truckstop where I worked at 3 a.m. buying a tube of Preparation H and a lottery ticket and proceed to tell me their life story of living with their crazy sister abducted by UFO's and their monumental struggle with anal herpes...I want to be them- just not the crazy UFO anal herpes part. I want to walk around thinking that people actually WANT to hear
MY life story. I want to pretend I am relevant. That people will care. That it
matters. But I never will because A) I'm afraid of strangers and B)I just can't bring myself to believe anyone really gives a shit. Hell,
I never gave a shit when people were yammering at
me. (That's why when sales people ask me 'How are are you today?' I smile back and say "Do you really give a shit?" It catches them off guard- and if the person answers honestly, 'No. I don't." I give them my business....)
Oh, who wants to pay $6 for a beer that I'll only drink half of before collapsing to the floor in a drunken swoon anyway....
I'll just blog here. It's free. And plus- I've never,
never had a good experience in a bar, not once. I attract every psychopath, weirdo and bad breath loser in a 500 mile radius. And at least here while I'm ranting no one's trying to grab my boob....
hey get your hand off- oh that's, me...