"I'M DRUNK!"

"ME TOO!"

"THIS PLACE SUCKS!"

"LET'S GET OUT OF HERE!"

They went to her house and had sex.

The next day he left her house and walked around.

The phone company had turned off his phone.

It was starting to get cold.

He went to a place that sold coffee and he bought coffee and sat at a
table drinking the coffee.

There was a newspaper sitting on the table. He picked it up and
started reading it. He couldn't focus. He would read the first
couple of paragraphs of an article and move on.

A hedge fund billionaire was arrested.

A baseball team beat another baseball team.

A terrorist group's sophisticated financial network remained in tact
despite attempts from the U.S. and its allies at crippling it.

A football player was stabbed to death in a brawl.

A rise in home foreclosures correlated with a rise in homelessness.

A football team beat another football team.

A famous actor starred in a revival of a famous old play.

A novelist died.

Politicians were divided over how to best reform health care.

A couple bombs exploded near the Iran-Pakistan border, killing a dozen
or so people and wounding dozens more.

Politicians were divided over how to best allot money to battle global warming.

The value of the U.S. dollar remained low.

A six-year-old boy presumed to have been trapped in a giant balloon
floating in the sky was found hiding in a box.

It started to rain.

He decided to look at a pretty girl who was reading a book. After a
while, the pretty girl looked up from her book and noticed him looking
at her so he smiled at her. She smiled back. He looked down at his
newspaper. There was a picture of two American soldiers looking at a
barefoot bearded man in a turban. He noticed a third American soldier
in the doorway of the mud hut behind the barefoot bearded man in the
turban and then he noticed the leg of a fourth American soldier in the
shadows behind the third American soldier. This was an article he had
read a paragraph of earlier. It was about the terrorist group's
sophisticated financial network remaining in tact despite attempts
from the U.S. and its allies at crippling it. The barefoot bearded
man in the turban apparently was an opium farmer.

He looked up at the pretty girl again. She looked up from her book
again and smiled at him. He smiled back and looked at the newspaper
again. It was the same four American soliders and barefoot bearded man
in a turban, still standing there. The soldiers' clothes were colored
in various shades of tan and grayish green and covered in straps,
latches, buttons and pockets. The one whose hands he could see was
wearing gloves. The soldiers seemed overdressed in relation to the
barefoot man bearded man in the turban.

He snuck another peak at the pretty girl. She was white and thin and
looked like a student. Most of the people in this coffee shop were
white and thin and looked like students. The neighborhood was
predominantly populated by first or second generation immigrant
families from the Dominican Republic, Puerto Rico and other countries
in the Caribbean as well as Central America and South America.

The girl got up to leave and they exchanged smiles again. He looked
at her butt as she walked away.

He asked for a glass of water and drank it.

He asked for another glass of water and drank it as slowly as possible.

Later that night he bought three cans of beer at a bodega and went to
a bar and drank them with a couple of people he knew. When he was
done with those beers he walked to the bodega and bought three more
and brought them back to the bar and drank them.

On his way to the bathroom he saw a drink on an empty table. He
picked it up and drank it.

While he pissed, he looked at his dick. He thought about the woman
he'd had sex with the night before. Where was she now? He thought
about her vagina. Where was her vagina? He thought about how her
vagina felt. He felt his dick getting bigger. He shook the last
droplets of piss out of his dick and put it back in his pants.

He washed his hands and put them under the electric hand-dryer. The
hot air felt good.

He went to the bar and asked for a glass of water. He drank it and
asked for another one.

Where was the warm vagina from last night? Where was the pretty white
thin student girl with the book and the butt? Where was the barefoot
bearded opium farmer in the turban? Where were the four American
soldiers? Where was the dead novelist? Where was the dead football
player? Where was the hot air from a few minutes prior?

He went back to the bathroom and washed his hands and put them under
the electric hand-dryer. When the hand-dryer turned off, he turned it
on again. Then he got bored and left the bathroom.

He went over to a girl he had slept with a few weeks prior.

"Can I sleep at your house?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Can we go now?"

"Let me finish my drink."

"You're so pretty."

"Oh, shut up."

"This place sucks."

"Let's get out of here."

 

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© 2009

THIS PLACE SUCKS LET'S GET OUT OF HERE

Victor Vazquez