I’ve been bantering around in my silly self-pity the idea that I am such a great guy for doing this and thinking that. Here is wisdom. It is 2:17am; I got home from the party last night at 6:00am. Tonight, I was sitting in the bar surrounded by a bunch of idiots and some truly great people. I’m sitting there at, let’s say, 10ish, trying to figure why the hell I’m listening to this person. My boozing is legendary within my circle but that doesn’t give you an excuse to be a lousy drunk. Are you hitting on me or just fucking retarded? When she first walked in I thought she was homeless when I saw her counting her change. Then she starts a tab with a credit card and I figured “Whoops!!!!”
Okay, maybe she’s for real but when she gets started on her awesome band that nobody’s ever heard of… come on. If you’re D.I.Y. you’re D.I.Y. It’s not as though you’re truly special in some way because you figured out how to record a song. I’m out on the patio with ****, who is a bone fide sound engineer and your speel (how do you write that so it sounds like Shpeel? Don’t know don’t care) just doesn’t jive.
I’m being awful because I can. I’ve blown through a $100 bar credit and into my own cash, some of which went to old friends for new fun. Fuck it. I feel like being selfish. **** and I continue our conversation while 1/2 of the Columbia brewery is coursing through my brain. Honestly I can’t give a fuck about your stuttering mantra about how cool your life is.
I am dying to email someone I really shouldn’t talk to while flipping my phone open to text a friend but decide to give her a break from Baron’s Weekend. All the while, this god awful woman won’t stop going on about how much she hates me [wants to fuck me] and I just wish I could get away but I have nowhere to go. **** and I try to keep talking but suddenly the bar is closed and we’re locked outside. Fine. My fucked up lady friend has a lady friend who’s trying to get with the other straggler, who at this time is way too drunk to even stand, but he is saved by her teenage daughter and friends who yell, “Mom you’re coming home now!” I laugh myself silly because that’s something you just don’t witness everyday. He stands and drops his glass. SMASH! Oh well, tough shit.
**** gives me a lift home and drops me off at the off ramp. Walking down the hill, I watch the Olympic search lights playing in the sky and think, Jesus did I really pay for this? I have a smoke and walk home trying to figure out what the hell I’m doing and why I bother. I flip my phone open again but have the sense to leave her alone.
I fire up the computer and Facebook stalk the other “her” to see if her status has changed then start writing this. The stupidest thing I could ever do is hit “Publish” but that’s exactly what I do
This entry was posted on February 7, 2010 by Baron S. Cameron. It was filed under Straight from The Bear's loud mouth (insane ramblings disguised as social commentary) and was tagged with 15 minutes, 2010, Baron S. Cameron, British Columbia, Canada, contrarian, loud mouth, loudmouth bear, vancouver, west vancouver, writing.