04-10-01 Chapter II - The Last

     Work on monday was really a bitch.  My boss was bothering me about work I hadn't done, and I didn't really want to hear it.  You know how it is.  Enough people complaining you get acclamated.  Don't do your work and people complain.  So what do I do?  Enough to keep my job. 

    After work I got drunk.  Not at the $500 bar that I met Victoria at, but some hole in the ground next to my apartment.  The games on, so I sit sort of in suspended motion letting my bladder and head become one with the beer.  I drink to forget past, and blur the present.  Oh and forget the future too. 

    My bed is so warm and my head is so pounding.  I guess I got kicked out of the bar for fighting.  Here's the thing about fighting.  It's mutual man, equal parts indifference and hate.  So I changed the channel and when the guy complained dumped beer on his head.  Didn't mean he had to punch in my eye.  Overall not a good day.  Not really anything special about tomorrow either.  What did I go to college for, to be a drunk paper pusher? 

   Because I went to bed early last night, or passed out I don't remember, I woke up early today.  My eye was swollen shut, brain cramped together and I had to take a monster piss.  While doing my duty however a strange thing happened.  Apparently, Victoria had written on my mirror in the bathroom.  How did I not notice this before?  Maybe it wasn't even there yesterday.  But there was the saying "The Last" in red lipstick.  How I met this girl was an odd thing too, remembering now.   
 
    I mean it was right there in the paper, it read: "Looking for the girl of your dreams?  Call 555-5235.  The Last".  I think I was drunk when I called the number, and left a message.  She called when I was at work, and told me about the club and the money, yet had an urgent tone in her voice.  I went and the rest is history.  Not the end of the world.

     I hope she didn't mean that my penis would fall off and I'd never sleep with another woman again.  I mean I thought I was respectable in bed.  C'est la vie.  I went through the day, my penis didn't fall off and work was allright.  I got back to my apartment and well, it wasn't there.
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