Out Drinking

Kaine and I and David went out drinking, late last night. David soon dumped us, as he latched on to some guy he's been cruising for years, with his usual intensity, every man for himself, gone in seconds.

Would I say David has a desperate edge to his bar etiquette? No, I wouldn't say that. (Was that thin veil of sarcasm detectable?))
We found them in the smoking section, David rutting on the other guys leg. Well, we had David's drink, we had to find them. Well, we didn't have to find them, but we did.
Kaine and I sat in the corner and chatted and laughed, as the world spun around us.
There was some skank, drunk New Zealunder, rotten and obnoxious, with vomit on his breath. There is always one. He was breathing all over everybody. And a nice boy from Perth, who had fallen in love with Melbourne.
I smoked 2 cigarettes. Kaine raised his eyebrows but only said,
"I don't want to hear complaining..."

"Huh! You'll hear complaining, sunshine, don't you worry."

Kaine jigged his leg. Kaine jigs his leg, I kind of like it.
Slippery slope, I know. I don't know why I had a cigarette, but I did. Actually, David's prospective asked me to hold his cigarette, kinda just like that, when he went to the toilet. So I puffed on it and it tasted just fine.

We turned into Gertrude Street, on the way home and the street was littered with lesbians. Ah, girl’s night. Never do you see a more disagreeable, humourless bunch, as the drunk, tired Lesbian clubber at the end of the night. Frowns, grimaces, hard faces, unhappiness. Not one smile, seemingly not a good time being had by any of them. And not one of them will step out of your way, as you try to pass by. They think nothing of blocking the footpath completely. Immovable. 

"Excuse me." 

Blank faces, a sneer, or contempt. I just wanted to say to them as a group, you know girls, lighten up, it may never fucken happen.
You, practically, need rugby shoulders to get through the crowd.
Most of them look like they carry knives.

I don't feel like a cigarette today, well up until this point, I didn't. Not that I feel like one now, but writing this made me think about them. Cigarettes, that is. Ah! It'll be out of my mind soon enough. I've got to go and get my second script filled. Perhaps, I should go and do that.