Wednesday, August 23, 2017

Hate This Place (2nd Sequence)

I woke up next to a blonde girl with frizzy hair, smeared makeup, and a full bottle of Rolling Rock still clenched in her hand. I didn’t feel alarmed or worried, mostly because I immediately spotted two unopened beers on the scratched wood floor next to my side of the bed. My oncoming anxiety attack was put to rest as I grasped the severity of my odd situation. I don’t know her but she obviously liked me enough to take me home. I played a gig the night before and she was collecting the cover charge at the show. I didn’t make it past the first song. It didn't matter because my head had been swimming off and on in a cheap liquor sea of distraction and doubt for the past month. I was loaded out of my mind from a deafening booze binge I had been on the last few days. I quietly opened a bottle of beer while scanning the room for clues to the history of my new friend. All I could find was an overdue bill with her name on it. Perfect, now I can communicate with her and drink in peace as I sort through my scattered thoughts and blurry sense of self.

A few feet in front of the bed was a makeshift front entrance. A battered set of French doors with a broken chain lock barely holding its position in the off white walls. I could hear voices occasionally drift in from a nearby hallway. This wasn’t good. I like to keep my existence as anonymous as possible when I'm unsure of myself. I am a very paranoid person when it comes to privacy. I had to wake her up and let her know we were exposed and almost out of beer. It was close to noon and I felt like a melting vat of combustible chemicals. After I nervously nudged her to wake up, she opened her eyes, sat up almost instantly and chugged her beer in about 30 seconds. She said we would walk up to the Mexican restaurant nearby and slam Coronas all afternoon.

She then asked “So do you want to move to Columbus? You can just live with me I guess. I just quit my job two days ago. We can worry about that shit later. Let's get drunk.“

I said “Well I guess so, I’m already here and my life sucks so yeah, this is where I'll live for now. Thanks.“

That was that. All of the long torturous months leading up to this moment of instant resolution seemed like such a useless stretch of time. Instead of anticipating my worthless future while constantly living in my head, I could just drive blindly into it and let the ensuing crash make up my mind for me. I didn’t feel like announcing my new life change to anyone. In fact, I didn’t want anyone to know where I was. It felt so invigorating and eerily intoxicating to just vanish into thin air. I felt like I was finally freed from my previous world of predictable consequences, bargain bin teenage drama, and excruciating small city boredom. I wondered why it felt like I was the only one having a mid twenty-something life crisis. It didn’t really matter because I wouldn’t care to listen about it anyway. At that moment I realized I didn’t have my wallet, a change of clothes, or any idea of who I was actually staying with. I'll figure that shit out later... (to be continued)