Saint Patrick's Wrap Up

Not as fun as planned but that tends to happen when you get a thousand self conscious drunks wrapped up in side a temporarily fence interment camp. Already drinking at 5pm, so this will end fairly ugly if I don't curb the booze, have to fight off the constant harrassment to do shots of Jamisons and Irish Car Bombs, have another friend who is not into partying at all, so the momentum has begun to stall, no one wants to talk to anyone, all the hot girls are in two camps tonight, the first is an assortment of lesbians who are more friendly that anyone else so far, much more entertaining, get some advice from one of the lesbians about a blue eyed brunette sitting at another table and tells me the woman looks boring, how profound, how true. The other camp happened to involve the blue eyed brunette who was with the usual amatuer work week cubicle crowd who take advantage of such days like St. Patrick's Day to get awful wasted, one such example was a particular blonde with a looked that had seen better days but still retaining a fair bit of sexiness, sort of like a drunk sorority girl, something to do, someone to do, not much thought beyond that, share a cigerette with her, as one of the knob geek guys in her group tries to tell me to beat it that she's not interest, well she's leaning on me pretty hard, either this blonde is going to fall down or has a hand on my ass as a sign of general friendliness. I have trouble taking this guy seriously, but have drank enough tonight to entertain the thought of fighting, have done it a couple times in the past few months and is not as much of journey to reach mentally.

The paddy wagon is parked outside waiting for the likes of me, begging to take me downtown, it has been actively seeking my presence for a full time position in the penal system. Not tonight, so I talk to the lesbians some more, but am pissed, smoking the last of a cigarette, no way I am going to let some douche bag losers get over on me so I head back over to the one who was giving me shit, figuring at least a few of the lesbians will jump in, so I call the guys out but no one seems to care, they have hot chicks I am just some old fuck hangin with some dykes and a bunch of guys with no game, what did they care, everyone ignored my ravings, continuing the partying without me, suckered again, punked me twice, now making me look like some loser rookie no pussy having chump and they would be right, defeated I went back over to my friends who are wasted entertaining themselves with the general crowd by picking out fat or unattractive women daring each other to go over and put a move on them, not much fun, so I wander off and attempt to strike up conversations with anyone, just to get a feel of the crowd, which did not add up to much, outside of the ocassional weirdo like myself, many people sang along with the Irish band up on stage at the moment, large choruses of Up Yours, repeated over and over again, I did not get it, understand the song or the context, unconcerned as well, went and got stoned instead, helped to put up a barrier between myself and the crowd, now there was nothing stopping me from talking to anyone, most people sort of put up half conversation while trying to figure a way to get away.

Fairly messed up by now, already alienated a friend's female acquaintences, surprising, it usual takes a strong cocktail of substance abuse, alcoholism, and directness to send them running to the hills, too intense, crazy, and insane, my behavior, desire, or general wisdom of living the glamorous life, a place people go once a year, a place where I check in for work on almost any given day whether at the job, at home, or on the road. It follows me constantly banging on my front door for attention. Ran into someone I use to party with back in the late 90's, how this guy seeked me out was beyond a sense of randomness. He looked as fucked up, wired, and sleepless as I remember him when he would nearly overdose on any drugs he could get his hands on, then curl up in a corner and hallucinate till the sun came up, paralyized like a statue as if his head might explode at any given moment, then would suddenly disappear, vanish until the following weekend where his ritual would be performed all over again, successive week after week until the club burned down and everyone went their seperate ways. Now he was sizing up to be another satellite in Miller's junkie club, who hit me up to party when things get slow and lately times have been anything but slow, so after the casual conversation consisting mostly of party stories, he wants to be dailed into the club so I give him my number then shuffle him off on another friend as I try to lock down some woman tonight, not much success so far but some nights can turnout that way, best thing is to not let it effect your mind, let it destroy the idea of going out and discovering something about the public, about people, and about myself most of all, not everyone will respond, this world has got so fucked up lately making most everyone defensive or completely uninterested, animatronic, emptying all the life from their face, even in the most attractive of clothing can't disguise, transparent, hollow, and hidden but there are lessons in those types of people too and they are not always pretty. Time to leave, let the night crew of posers roll in with their green shirts, green thigh high stockings and green beads, done with the five dollar beers for the evening, rest up for a better and not so popular reason to get wasted.