I awoke the next morning to feel the contents of my stomach plunge up my throat, the heaves wrench my sides and I can’t see threw the tears in my eyes. Grasping to the edge of a near by garbage can I lower my head slowly and fall back asleep, for what seemed to be less than a few seconds I lay on the floor of my tiny apartment. My mind coasts to thoughts of him once more; the demon, the desolate beast that broke my heart and took everything good away from me, again the tears come. I feel the first roll down my face know matter how firmly I hold it back. That’s it I will flounder in my sorrow no longer, seizing my guts I stumble toward the shower.
As the water trickles over my body a feeling comes over my once more, again my stomach empties this time on the shower floor. The sight and the smell brings me to me knees as I ring out every last drop from my stomach. Its a few good minutes before I have the strength to pull myself up on the shower door, using it in one hand to support myself and using the other to wash takes far more time than necessary. The day is nearly over by the time I step out my front door, there’s a cool wind that sooths as it touched my face and street lights begin to flicker. In the pit of my stomach I can still feel something very unpleasant when I begin to walk it worsens, but I push to press on. Uncertain of were I am going I make no hasten, slowly I amble down ally ways, through parks, and along quiet streets until it occurred to me how much danger I’d put myself in.
“You stupid girl!” I whispered to myself.
Walking through the city at night all alone, this realization put me in an peculiar position. There is nothing open at this time of night but the bars and that’s impractical in my condition, although my father had always told me the best cure for a hangover is hair of the dog that bite you. My mind was made up.
As I stepped into the low lit room the smell of alcohol and vomit fills my nostrils and once again I’m nauseous. Realizing that there’s nothing in me to through up I carry on. Walking to a table in the corner and sitting down half a dozen heads turn, I pretend not to notice and order a beer. The walls of the bar were covered in what looked to be old newspaper clippings, and more than half of the light bulbs were burnt out. I could tell at that moment that this place wasn’t much short of a dump. Convincing myself that I was safer staying put than venturing back out on to the streets I stay put in my seat. A waitress with long red hair walked over to me carrying a beer, her short skirt revealed a black leopard tattooed on her thy and her low cut red shirt left little to the imagination.
“What’s a lady like you doing in here?” She asked with a surprised expression on her face. “If ya haven’t noticed this place really ain’t for ladies like yerself.”
“I’ve noticed,” I answered trying to force a friendly smile.
“Are you here by yerself hun?” she asked placing a beer on the table in front of me.
I nodded my head.
“Ya shouldn’t be; the guys in here are pigs,” she said lowering her voice and shielding her mouth with her hand. “Good tips though,” she chuckled, “But don’t let me spoil yer fun, if ya need another just holler.”
With that she walked across the room to another table filled with middle aged men who all looked like they’d had a few to many. As she neared a short, chubby, bold man stumbled to his feet. “Hiya sweet cheeks I’ll have another,” he managed to get out as her tried to catch his balance.
“We’ll all have another,” a more sober man shouted over his drunken friends mumbling. The chubby man sat back down at the table after a few failed attempts and threw his dark blue wind breaker onto the floor. The red haired waitress didn’t look amused as she bent over to pick it up.
“Sssorry aboud at sweecheeks,” the chubby intoxicated man said as he leaned in for a closer look.
“It’s a good thing you’re a good tipper Gorgy or ya’d been out on yer ass long ago.”
The waitress forced a smile back then collected the bills from the table and walked back behind the bar. She stood a while and counted the cash in her hand, pocketing some and then placing some in an old cash register on the counter.
I sat quietly in my seat about 5 feet from the side of the bar. Sipping slowly on my beer I relaxed my body and felt my stomach begin to fill and repair itself. By the time I realized I was staring, it was too late the red haired waitress had already noticed she finished pouring the glass of beer in her hand, placed it on her tray and strutted back to the table with the chubby drunk man and his group of friends. She carefully placed their beers on the table and spun around fixing her eyes on me.
“Need another hun?” she said smiling as she approached me. I could hear slightly over the drunken hysterics and country music her stiletto heels clicking on the floor.
“Uhm…why not.”
“Are you alright hun?”
“Uh ya, ya I’m fine,” I answered a little stunned. “Sorry I’m just a little out of it is all.”
"Okay then," she said smiling as she reached for my empty beer bottle.
She returned with a second beer and in placing it on the table she woke me from a trance.
"There ya go hun, anything else I can getcha?" she asked leaning over the table and placing my beer down.
"No that's okay how much do I owe you?" I replied.
"Oh I almost forgot that guy over there," I followed her slender out stretched finger across the room to a man seated alone in the corner. "Ya see um, in the corner?"
"Yes," I answered unsure of what was going on.
"He says it's on him," she smiled again and leaned down again lowering her voice. "Kinda cute, don't cha think?"
I looked over again at the man in the corner, he wore a gray T-shirt and dark blue jeans. His white sneakers were scuffed in numerous places, but his genital smile was what really caught my eye. The low lit room prevented me from getting a good look at his face but from what I saw he didn't look too bad. "Yes, he looks friendly I suppose."
"Hun friendly ain't why he bought ya yer drinks, men," she huffed. "There all the same."
As she walked her way back across the room I swore I heard her cursing “pigs” under her breath.
