Drunk. Again.No big surprise... After-all, it was part of the bands pay. FREE BEER meant I was up to bat and I swung at every pitch. As with many bars, this bar too got ramped up as the night progressed... Louder (despite the bands playing), "friendlier" or debaucherous (You choose, at a gay bar on a Saturday nightnamed DETOUR in Lexington,Kentucky I guess so), smellier and finally dangerous. As it would turn out,allegedly, the gruff-voiced bar tender would come under scrutiny, eventually, for the poisoning and DEATH, of her immediate family. Yeah,free beer. Drink up. Sometimes you never realize how dangerous things or places are. That's what Johnny Cash meant when he sang about walking the line. That razor thin line between something good and healthy to something not, Even now, years later, the irony of the situation bites at me and I will admit, it makes me laugh because I never thought of myself as tough, or as a daredevil or a survivor, but by the most narrow definitions of the terms, my ego places me there... In the middle. Drunk. Again. Surviving
That's where this treatise should end. It sounds good that way, but I never really got to what I originally wanted to say and I'm not really sure about how to link that first part with this part even though I like to pretend I'm a raw word mercenary. For some reason, on this unseasonably cool July evening, just after a unsespected and unplanned but also invigorating nap, I woke up remembering this place, this night. I don't remember the exact reasoning Juice by Jerry and I were in the bathroom crossing piss-streams into a rental-grade commode but that hole in the wall, about waist-high to my right... I'm thinking now that the hole was nothing other than a good ol'fashioned glory-hole... It only took a decade coupled with a good nap whose length would push the borders and definitions of what a nap is verses the slumber of full-sleep, to realize such a beautiful mess that place and time was.
Read a Poem about this same night from READ THEN DESTROY