"I shouldn't be here." I tell myself. Standing outside the bar, garish neon lights blinking slowly in my face, I shiver and almost leave. It's loud inside - people laughing and a blare of music trying to drown everyone out. I'm standing about 15 feet away by a dead lamp post. Watching. A somewhat steady stream of people in and out, various states of dress. Various types. Nice, casual, punk, grimy - all kinds.
I just turned 21. I'm going. Fuck my parents. Fuck the Church and fuck everyone else. All I've known my entire life is what I shouldn't do. How I should act. How I should be starting to think about settling down with some pretty girl and thinking about a family. Too goddamned young if you ask me. I'm on winter break from school, staying with my parents and couldn't stand another night listening to them natter on about responsibilities and what's expected of me.
My breath steams in the air while a little dusting of snow falls around me, futilely trying to dampen the sound pounding from the building. When the stream of people dies down, I force myself to move. Now or never, I tell myself. The bouncer (a big burly guy with an almost porcine face) stops me to ask for my ID. My hands shake when I pass it over but I tell myself it's the cold. He looks at the ID and then me. ID then me. Then to my shaking hands. Back to me. "You okay, kid?" He asks. His voice sounds surprisingly gentle.
"Y... yeah. J... Just cold is all." I don't think he buys it but he gives me back my ID and waves me in with a quick hand stamp. What can he do to stop me? It's a real ID.
It's warm inside. And bright. And loud. The sound rolls over me like a wave and I blink, looking around to get my bearings. The bar. There. Mostly everyone is sitting around small round tables on the floor but I want the bar. A few people look up and then back to the drinks and conversation - some eyes linger for a bit. I make my way to the bar, finding a large empty spot, and then sit down. I don't even remember what I ordered. I just picked something from the menu because none of it makes sense. I have a general idea of what tequila and vodka and other drinks are but I've never had alcohol. My face is flush and the barrage of sound is disorienting. I spend my time staring at the surface of the bar and almost squeak when the waiter puts the glass in front of me.
The drink burns. My first time with alcohol and I almost sputter and spit it everywhere. My sinus is on fire and I almost hack up a lung. People LIKE this stuff? Why in the world...?
"You all right there?" Now I do squeak. I didn't hear the guy walk up but there he is. Casual white button down shirt open slightly. Tie in his open suit coat pocket. Handsome, older - 40? and a 5 o'clock shadow. I try to talk, can't and then nod my head. "Good. Mind if I sit? Getting crowded." I nod again and he sits with a sigh, as if letting off all the pressures of the day.
We talk a bit. Well, he talks at me and I sometimes nod but eventually I'm answering. Now I'm feeling good. Happier. Smiling. My drink is half gone and I'm laughing and joking with the guy next to me. He's watching and he's got these little crinkles in the corners of his eye. Little wrinkles here and there, happy ones that say he's had a decent life.
