Story #249 - Old habits resurface (part 6)

After two days of lying on the couch, I became bored. I needed fresh air or I'd break the TV screen. God. Do they even make anything worthwhile on the small tube anymore?
I can imagine people sitting here, watching this crap, and end up either going mad or killing themselves. Or worse, turn even more average. The plague of society. Everybody becoming so average that getting naked and drunk is considered a talent to make a show about.
Ugh! I've had enough.
I need to move...hmm... It didn't occur to me that I may not have shoes here.
*gets up* Ow, my body. Just sitting is painful enough. But I have to get out. *walks in a slow fashion to the entrance*
No shoes. Dammit. My mom only has small sizes. Grand. Back to the potato position.

Story #248 - Old habits resurface (part 5)

"Wake up." *smack*
"Ow!"
I plop open my eyes and see this woman with wrinkles stretching on her chin and cheeks as she widens her mouth to talk to me.
"Asshole."
"How did you find out?"
"They had your wallet and phone."
"Oh."
"How could you?"
"I lost my job. I felt like shit. One pint turned into multiple. I was supposed to be safe."
"Until a car smacked, eh?"
"I don't need this right now, mum."
"Neither do I, but I can keep you here for a short period."
"I can go anytime, thanks."
"No, you can't. You can't even clean yourself properly now with your hand in a cast."
"I can."
"Cook? No. Work? No. Just shut up and relax."
"Fine. I'll sit here on the couch, wasting my time crying my pain away."
"Good."

Story #247 - Old habits resurface (part 4)

A seeping white light is trying to bury itself into my irises. I don't want to at first, but I cave in and open my eyelids.
White ceiling...white walls...white curtains...white sheets... Am I dead?
No. I can't be dead. I-I-I feel pain. Immense pain. God. What's this throbbing stuff in my right arm?
Oh, man, I can't keep it in anymore. I have to yell out my pain. Maybe someone will come and put me out of my misery. Not for good, I hope.
"Doctor, doctor, the patient has awaken. Come quickly." I hear from the door. Cannot turn that way. Is my neck jammed? I don't feel anything bad with it.
"Doctor!"
"I'm here. Hmm... Why did nobody administer him anything for his pain?"
Incompetents. I can't believe he'd say that out loud.
He's injecting something now, and I am starting to feel calmer.
I'm going to take a nap.

Story #246 - Old habits resurface (part 3)

Stepped out of the restroom and I decided against buying another pint. My head was spinning too much.
When I left the pub, I felt I was going to choke. I spent five hours in that place, drinking my angst away, and the warm atmosphere got into me plenty. The coldness of the 2 a.m. air cuts inside me with ease.
It's weird. I always mocked and laughed at those muppets who got themselves too drunk and couldn't walk properly on the pavement, and here I am, going in a zig-zag fashion on the cobblestone, trying to leverage myself with the help of...air, I suppose.
My eyes can barely stay up. I have to prick them open once every ten seconds with my fingers.
I should be walking one step at a time judging by how the grapefruit in the noggin feels, yet I go three-to-four, and I feel this won't end well.
People have given up passing me by. They cross the street instead, giving me their displeasure through their words and gestures. I wish I could verbally reply, but I can only smile.
... Like that, I mistook a step on the side of the street and arrived on the street. Maybe I should cross, too.
The coast is clear for my passing. Easy, one, two...can't breathe. Crap. In the middle of the road I'm feeling Vader's glove on my throat. Why now of all times?
My eyes are fading and I'm feeling a bright light on me. Did someone turn the...

Story #245 - Old habits resurface (part 2)

I've stepped inside this restroom.
They could use a fucking window up in this place. Either build that or hand out gas masks 'cause it makes me spill my beans, and not in a good way. Goddamit!
Do they even have cleaners here?
I can see crap on the floors as I'm going around puddles of piss, trying to find a spot where my shoes won't be flooded.
Hmm...you know what? I'd rather go back to the door, unzip my fly, and go. It's the safest option. A shame I considered it only after I stepped into this bane of life. You fail only to grow.

Ah, that felt great. It's a little unhygienic, but rather them than me. Now to get out. Bye, yellow liquid.

Story #244 - Old habits resurface (part 1)

Here I am again. At the pub.
Drunk. Jobless. Loveless.
The perfect predicament...to kill yourself.
Ugh.
I thought I was safe at work, so I had a nap, then I had a pint.
While drinking, the boss came by and said I'm finished.
To be honest, he kinda had a point.
I was supposed to drill a few holes, and while the first two were fine, the next two were all over the place. It'll take them a few days to seal my mistake and put things in motion for whatever they're building.
I wasn't that upset, either. Losing a job that you hate, but brings you a decent sum should be something that brings you to your knees and apologize to the man. Not me, though. I was chill. Even sprayed him in the face with my deodorant. The bastard.
Figured I'd come in a salsa bar next. Except I don't know the dance. Girls were looking at me as I jumped looking a lunatic on crack trying to dance house or d&b; more like dumbass.
And now it's late.
I've since left that salsa joint and stepped foot in this shabby crib where everything smells and looks cheap.
First, a step to the restroom.

Story #243 - Not a PG joke

I often saw my father come home from work, with his eyes about to fall off, with his hands barely untying his shoelaces and taking off the shoes. I know cause I was watching my door, stuck in the shadows like a cat, except I had shades over my eyes.
But anyway, as he came into the living, moving like a zombie without grunts, surely a devolved form, instead of going to the bathroom, he went to the computer and started playing some Facebook crap.
Some games are okay, but not social media ones. Then he went to the fridge, grabbed a beer, and returned to the clicky stuff.
If you're wondering why I was there in the first place, it was to scare him when he went to the toilet. No luck, dammit!
But I decided to get up and go over to him.
"Dad," I said as I drew closer.
"Yeah?" Like he knew I was there.
"Why aren't you going to sleep?"
"After I finish the beer."
"Uh-huh. Can you look at me?"
He does. I place my left hand over his right cheek and elbow him in the jaw with my right one. He fell flat on his figure.
In my panic, I dragged him to bed, grabbed my wallet, and didn't come home for three days.
It was certainly messy when I came back.

Story #242 - Get your hand off

"Whoa! Easy there." *he lifts her hand*
"What?"
"That's...err...not your to touch."
"But I thought you might like it."
"Why would you think that?"
"Don't all guys like it?"
"Do they?"
"I've tried it on more and they did."
"They must think you're attractive or something."
*slap* "How could you say that?"
"Oh, get off your high horse, you good for nothing dame."
"Hmph." *she leaves*
"And to think she wanted to drink my flippin' expensive whisky, just like that. The nerve of some people. There are some things you just don't go over."