A Few Thoughts I Jotted Down

So I’m sitting at Exit, by myself, working on a double Beam, Coke on the side. I’m tired from work, but full of nervous energy. I don’t know what I’m gonig to say.

A million variations are going through my head. She works at a bar – guys like me show up every ten minutes I’m sure… who am I and what I am I thinking?

But fuck. I’m here now. So…

Empty stomach. Whiskey. Always the smart guy, me.

Outside of the bouncer, the bartenders (one in front, one in back) and a guy carrying trash… there’s no one else here.

I had a drink with Donna, who was kind enough to throw one down with me. I still feel a bit weird, being the only one here.

Found out tonight is "bondage" night. I have no idea what that means, and now I’m having this weird fucking concern that I’m somehow not dressed appropriately. What the fuck? Where does this social paranoia come from?

I’m worried I’m going to get sloppy drunk stupid