Just another night

For one of the first times in my life, I'm drunk and wouldn't rather be anywhere else or with anyone. I'm happy now. I'm happy here.

I'm doing two things I never thought I would do. I'm sitting in my dad's recliner and drinking his whiskey. I'm alone. If he woke up and wandered out into the living room, I would pickup on his mindset instantly, assess it, and then him and I would probably shoot the shit. I love my dad.

I hate that sound. I still hear it every day. The sound of the family refrigerator dispensing ice into my dad's whiskey glass. It's an unmistakable and unforgettable sound.

Tonight I made that sound. Tonight I mixed the Jack and Coke. Tonight I'm sitting in the recliner. I'm not speaking or lamenting though, I'm writing.

I'm sitting in this recliner, drunk, and wondering what it feels like to be my dad. I'm imagining what goes on in his head. I just looked over at the empty couch and pretended a young 10 year old version of me was sitting there. I can imagine what I would be doing. I wouldn't be sitting still. I'd be cheering for the Lakers on TV probably. I wonder what my dad thought of me then.

I was at a bar near my house earlier tonight and I chatted it up with the 30 something bartender that I know works the weekday shifts. She's a cutie. My dad hit on her the only time I went up there with him. He was drunk. She remembered me when I first started coming in to the bar to see her.

I also met the barback tonight. His name is Fleet. I talked to him for about 20 minutes. I couldn't believe what he said he used to do for a living before working at this bar. He used to play poker. Go fucking figure. I couldn't believe it. I could tell he really played, too. He knew his shit. Although there were other things about poker we talked about, we mainly discussed the differences between online and live game play. He told me about the money he lost on FullTilt when the site went under two April's ago. He's in the process of trying to become a bartender and said he'd been working at this bar for 3 months as a barback. Best of luck to that guy.

One of the waitresses walked up to the bar and took a seat near me. She looked tired as hell. She had just gotten off her shift and ordered a gin and tonic from the bartender. She had great tits and pretty smile. I was thinking about her when she looked over at me. She made a slight smile, then casually looked away. I smiled back then looked down at my drink. After, I imagined myself ripping the button down shirt off her. Next, I saw myself pulling her tight jean shorts and panties down then picking her up and fucking her really hard on the counter in the men's bathroom. I imagined her yelling. Yelling at me for more, but also yelling at something else. She must have been yelling at the thing all men would love to understand, I thought to myself. I kept envisioning myself grabbing her thighs tightly and thrusting my dick in and out of her.

As if almost on cue, the bartender interrupted my thoughts and brought me my tab and said "We're closing sweetie, see you next time." I tipped, said goodbye to the few people there, and drove home. Now I'm here.