The night began the way most nights being: with an idea. An idea of what to do and where to go. Tonight the chosen place was a dive bar on the west side of downtown. Little place called Bikini Lounge is what it was called.
"I dunno, man," he thought to himself. "More drinking? Really?"
He didn't mind the drinking, he minded the hangovers. The frustrating, inspiration sapping hangovers that seemed to permeate his very being. He hated them, yet he needed them. Needed them because it made his moments of clarity all the more special. He knew not to waste those moments.
So he finished getting ready, did his hair with a tousle or two and some help from the fan. He wondered aloud why he just didn't buy a hair dryer, but he knew he never would. Much too girly, he thought. Best to wait until he had a girl.
Clothes on, quick pocket check for keys, phone, chapstick, wallet and camera left him frantically searching for the gum. The that he crushed the last time he was out. Upon finding it, he broke out a piece and chewed it. It displaced the taste in his mouth and dried it out at the same time. The sweet mint cleared his nostrils and he breathed deeply.
Still no smell after the mint.
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