Damn It All to Hell
Chapter 7
The cab stinks of stale cigarette smoke and drunken frat boys. ‘Strip district.’ The windows are partially open, and they seem to be stuck. I wonder what language the cab driver speaks? It’s freezing in here, but even if I could close the windows, we’d probably die of asphyxiation from the awful smell. Luckily, it’s not a very long cab ride. That’s another good thing about this awful bar; less money on the cab ride means more money for beer.
I could really use a drink. The problems in the world are getting to be a little too much for me these days. I’ve just come to accept that all the world’s tragedies are gonna fall on me. I need to try and forget about some of them for a little while. It’ll be very gratifying to know that my concept of reality is being altered by alcohol for however short a time it might be.
Gavin has come to his senses and realized that he was wrong. He knows it’s not often that I talk about any girl, let alone one who may turn out to mean something to me. This is why I don’t usually talk to him about these things. He’s a great guy and he’s fun to hang out with, but he generally doesn’t know much about anything. He’s smart, too, it’s just that he really doesn’t understand what it’s like to know what’s going on. The fact that he’s smart has nothing to do with the fact that he has no common sense and absolutely no grasp on reality. He looks like he can’t wait to get to the bar. I can’t wait, either. I really need a drink.
Well, it’s just a few blocks away now. My face is numbed to the cold after only the few minutes we’ve been in here. My eyes are watering from the harsh, icy wind as I try to pay attention to the passing sights.
Some asshole behind us is honking his horn and tailgating the cab. What the hell? Where could he possibly be going that he needs to get there so fast? This is the kind of thing that I have absolutely no patience for. So what if you’re a few minutes late getting somewhere? This is one of the dumbest philosophies I’ve seen, and it happens all the time. These morons decide that they need to be the fastest one on the road, or they decide they need to get somewhere early, or on time, or just slightly late instead of obscenely late. It’s these random bursts of sudden speed that send people to an early grave. It’s the philosophy where if you think you’re doing better, then you must be doing better. It’s ridiculous. That damn car behind us won’t be able to get around our cab no matter what the cabbie tries to do. The road is way too narrow. They should just fucking slow down. They’re not gonna get anywhere any faster -- if they get there at all.
‘Jesus!’ The car just tapped our bumper, trying to suggest that we should go faster. I’m glad the cabbie isn’t paying any attention to him. This sort of thing probably happens to him all the time. The driver behind us is really mad now. He’s rolling down his window, waving his arms around, and screaming. Does he really think we can hear him? We can’t. Sorry, sir, you’re going to have to speak up a little. Holy shit! He’s pulling out a gun! I think I’d better duck down as far as I can before that motherfucker starts shooting.
‘Gavin, get down here!’ As the words leave my lips, the rear window crashes and shatters into a million pieces. Gavin slumps down in his seat, while a splintered part of his skull darts into the back of the driver’s seat, where it becomes permanently lodged. The splinter sticks gruesomely out of the rear of the seat in the middle of a huge spattering of blood and brains that drips slowly down the back of the seat, while I sigh and turn away.
How many times have I seen this happen? I have to study the people on the street to try and shake the scene from my memory. You can only watch someone die so many times before it becomes tedious -- not to mention disheartening.
Thank God, we’re here. I need that drink more and more with every step I take towards the front door. Gavin pays the cabbie, and I pay the bouncer at the door to the bar. This is always the way with Gavin and me. We just buy things for each other because we know it all evens out eventually. I don’t know what I’d do without him. Then I’d have to pay for everything myself.
The bar is crowded with college students and young professionals, letting their hair down, trying to find some point to their boring lives, drinking till they realize they’d only feel better if they were dead. The music is thunderously loud, and the bass beat rocks the floor so much that it almost makes me feel like dancing. I don’t have the energy to dance right now, though. I just want my drink.
“Hey, Edan! What do you want to drink?!”
Hey, good timing. Gavin’s shouting at me from a few feet down the bar. ‘Guinness!’ You just can’t beat a good stout. I can’t stand those light beers that taste like watered-down sodas. They’re awful. How can anybody drink those? God, I wish he would hurry up! Bartenders can take so long when you really need a drink.
Oh, Jesus. Now Gavin’s stopping to talk to someone. We just walked in the door and he’s fucking hitting on women already. Just get me my beer, dammit! You’ve already pissed me off several times tonight. Just get me my beer.
This girl looks friendly. ‘Hey, can I get one of those?’ No response -- just a box of cigarettes shoved in my face. I can handle that. ‘Thanks. Gotta light?’ Again, no response -- just a lighter shoved in my face. ‘Cool.’ I wonder if she’s that easygoing about everything?
Ah.... The stress of living is going to kill me. Cigarettes make everything better. When your life goes to shit, you might as well just try to kill yourself by the slowest means possible: smoking. Of course, in my case it doesn’t matter what I do, I already know I’m not gonna get lung cancer or emphysema or anything like that.
I wish there was an empty seat at the bar. It’s always good to have a seat at the bar. The bartenders pay far more attention to you when you’re seated at the bar. You don’t have to go jumping around behind the people who were luckier than you, waving your arms at the guy while he ignores your existence entirely. He’ll just come over, see your glass is empty, and ask if you want another. You don’t even have to say anything, you can just nod or shake your head. It’s the best. I enjoy being lazy like that. There’s nothing better than sitting at a bar, calmly drinking your beer, while the people around you are dancing, shouting, and making asses of themselves. I like knowing there are so many people around. I have no intention of getting to know any of them, though.
Oh, good: Gavin’s back. ‘Jesus, do you think you took long enough?’
“Sorry. That chick was hot.”
Oh, yeah. I forgot: Always leave your miserable friend alone without his drink while you’re hitting on some hot chick. I’ll never understand where Gavin gets these ideas. ‘Yeah. Whatever.’
“You’d think so too.”
Yeah, right. Gavin and I never go for the same type of girl. He likes the fun-loving, stupid girls who will genuinely try to act smart and sincere about everything, but they’re really just dumb whores. He really just likes to fuck. Well, who doesn’t? But he thinks he really likes these girls, when that’s really not it at all. It’s just that they’re the girls that’ll get into bed with him. There’s no way...
“Well, not the girl I was talking to. You’d probably like her friend.”
Christ, how many times have I tried to tell him not to try and hook me up with some chick in a bar? If I want to get laid, I’ll get laid. It’s not about that tonight. I’m too busy moping. I just want to be alone with my thoughts. ‘Thanks for the beer.’
“I told her to come over here. She’s gonna bring her friend. They’re just finishing their drinks first. Her friend looked like she wanted to meet you. I pointed you out to her.”
Goddammit. I’m gonna kill him. ‘Gavin...’
“Look, they’re right over there.”
What? I don’t know who the fuck he’s talking about. I don’t care. There are too many people in the way. Wait, I think I see the girl Gavin was talking to, and her friend is waving at me. Oh my God. For once, Gavin has done me a favor.
“She’s cute, huh?”
Damn. ‘I’m gonna go say hello.’
“Ha! Told you so.”