" My sister clings onto my hand and leads me to the dim lit biker bar . " Come on!" She urges, " I'm right here, Jeannine." I say annoyed. Here, was the last place I wanted to be. I much rather be huddled in the corner of my room browsing Tumblr and drinking booze alone. But Jeannine insisted that for my twenty first birthday we celebrate. So we do. Because we do whatever Jeannine insists we should do.
The pungent smell of marijuana clings to my clothes. As I try to scour away from all of the prying eyes. The crowd here looks scary. Mean mugged stares and cigarettes between their fingertips. I needed to get drunk. That is the only way social anxiety becomes a stranger to me and the social butterfly that I truly am shows its wings. I go up to the bartender and proudly present my I.D. Requesting a tropical drink, something fruity and sweet for the tongue.
" Pineapple Coladda please! " " We don't got none of that here. Only got whisky, or hard liquor. We don't carry none of that fruity shit. " " Okay, whisky. I love a good whisky with a little bit of lime." I lie to myself " Comin right up! " I sip on my drink and slowly walk over to my sister Jeannine. She always reminded me of a chameleon. Blending into whatever environment she had been placed in. Adopting a new personality similar to the crowd that had gathered around her.
Me, I was social awkwardly even when drunk. I hoover by till Jeannine spots me. Her eyes, glassy and red yet full of enthusiasm. " Oh, my gosh! This is my best, ever best friend. Erica." She slurs her words, and drags my arms to sit down on the wobbly stool by her . " Hi, Erica." The clique repeats. " Um, Hi." " Erica, is a little bit anti social. A little bit of a weirdo this one is." Jeannine pokes hard into my chest with her finger. " Ow." I complain. " Pussy. You know what you need, you need another mothafucking drink! Bartender! I need a whole bucket full of those beers." The bartender dilgintley nods his head, I was drunk enough as it was but not certifiably intoxicated. And nowhere near to the level that Jeannine was.
As the evening goes on and the sun goes down, the room becomes one Christmas lite blur. I laugh with a woman who has no teeth. And high five a guy with a swastika tattoo. Ordering another round and another round until, my motor abilities are officially impaired,One minute I am the life of the party and then it all just went black. "
YOU ARE READING
Hell Is For Winners
SpiritualErica has lived a life full of sin and tragedy. An avid drinker since the age of fifteen dwindles to a habitual alcoholic before her twenty first birthday. She lived a life in a hazy fog, irresponsibly and extremely childish, but when it's all cut...
