Everybody Wins, Even In The Belljar

The bar was on the other end of the room and populated by people who like people. Nathaniel and his bottle had his corner under an old yellow light. This was really the best setup for everyone. No one had to suffer Nathaniel drunk and Nathaniel could say he went to the party. The three or so people that he actually liked in that fifteen person mass over there would have to appreciate the gesture. He tried, he really did, but then three minutes passed and he retreated back to a comfortable corner with easy exits.

The bottle was half full, but by Nathaniel’s count that meant that he was now half corn. The bourbon had seeped into every place. Even those otherwise rational sanctuaries were being encroached upon. In his current state, he was sure that the lack of vagina was something a person could be persuaded into changing. There was enough liquor in him that he could have actually gotten up and asked a man. There was also enough liquor, that it was a guarantee that he would trip and fall. The world has a strange balance.

He didn’t mind being an ass or an idiot, it was the lack of control that scared him. He was liable to say anything, do anything. Moreover, the problem was fire deep down his flue, stoked in his humors. It was every bit of day late wit, wrong road regret that he kept inside ready for the hearth if ever there was a need for quick anger. The quick anger was probably pretty close by.

“Nathaniel right?”

“I am he but I’m never that.”

“What?”
“Right.”

“Ah.”

She was a head taller than him while he sat and probably two heads shorter when he stood straight. Her name was Yvette and her hair was fake and blond but Nathaniel tried not to judge.

“I’m sorry, I’m a bit out of sorts, what do you need?”

“Your acquaintance.”

Her unblemished light brown flesh, her clay red eyes, her slender figure, Yvette was everything Nathaniel wanted physically. Luckily Nathaniel was feeling like a surly jackass and he wouldn’t have to deal with the problem of getting what he wants and Yvette wouldn’t have to bother with him. Nathaniel’s selfish logic helped him help her. He was really quit charitable

“Ms. Brown is it?”

“Please call me Yvette.”

“Ms. Brown, right now I’m remembering the time I got mugged.”

“I’m sorry that must have been horrible.”

“I’m waxing nostalgic.”

She stared at the morbid man.

“Please leave Ms. Brown.”

As she left, the exit got closer. It was a miraculously balanced motion and seemed almost involuntary. Before he knew it, he was out the door lighting a cigarette. Home was west but it would have been smarter to take a taxi. The idea of going back for his phone seemed regressive and wrong. The three he liked would accept his tribute to them and the rest would be happy to see him go. Everybody was winning really. Happy day.

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