How to Act Pissy in a Bar

Maybe she poisoned my beer with some sort of invisibility drug that's just come out on the market. I'm sure I'm just overreacting; I'm sure she's just got a lot going on. As if I give a flying fuck. In our relationship, at least, she doesn't have fuck-all to do outside of bringing me a goddamn beer at least once a motherfucking hour. How would that be, eh honey? That would be fucking spiffy, eh?

Goddamn, I wish I had a fucking watch sometimes. She finally showed up, then asked if I wanted a beer. Then acted fucking irritated when I said yes. What a fucking cunt. She has earned no tip. But, in order to break the cycle of Bad Tip/Bad Service madness, I'll give her a tip. Throwing her an undeserved bone, as it were. Hopefully, she won't misinterpret it as joy of being ignored on my part. I don't really see how she could. But, sometimes, people's capacity for self-delusion is nothing short of stunning.

Lordy, my anger's gone. That's a good thing, isn't it? Usually, I would say. Probably depends on the cause. Well, tonight, there's no more worrying about right or wrong, good or evil. I'm going to finish my beer, go home, and watch a movie. Enjoying the heat, I'll drink beer, thrill to explosions, watch the cars go by, smoke cigarettes, and ocasionally enjoy the electric sensation of too-vivid memories that spring at me from behind the sofa.

Good night.