Friday

"One more please," I ask, cradling my glass with a hold not so gentle. The old man next to me stares in disgust, I can't blame him. I'm always in this intoxicating hole, hoping these drinks will be lightening me from all my repetitive worries about love. I need to at least choose a new place, if you aren't here for being shattered, the music they always play on that 70's jukebox sure will do it for you.