And so here is my FFF post for the week. Most definitely not my best effort, but well, I have had precious little time to even consider a story, nevermind write one. The starting sentence was one by David Barber.
FFF #18 – Balamer Ugly
As the sixth shot of whisky burnt its way down, I suddenly remembered what I left the house for. Said I needed some cigarettes. And now I was halfway to becoming a shit-faced cliché. The plan was to put the truck into gear and drive. Leave her, leave the row house we are most likely going to lose anyway, and leave the job I hated waking up to everyday. Anywhere had to be a better place than here right now in the life I was struggling to maintain.
I am not sure what I was thinking when I stopped here at Jackson’s Hole. A quick goodbye drink and then on my way to greener pastures. Instead, that one final drink turned into an endurance event. A friend I hadn’t seen in awhile insisted on buying me a round. I insisted on buying him one. Three drinks in and I’m crying all over this poor guy. He finally managed to pry himself loose leaving me to wallow in my own misery.
It took six shots to remember why I left the house. It was the seventh shot that reminded me I was a coward. I couldn’t leave. I knew I would be waking up tomorrow with another big head and have to deal with idiots over at the DMV at Mondawmin Mall. But first I had to deal with Ubie. No matter how miserable she makes me, I always come back. Goddamn her and her browbeating ways. Goddamn her and her wonderful thighs.
I signal Jackson for another shot. He comes over with the bottle and another glass. Pouring a shot into each, he hands me one and he takes the other. “On the House. I already called you a cab John. Oh, and Ubie called. I couldn’t lie to her. Be some Hell to pay when you get home. Drink up.”
I looked at Jackson. He returned my gaze. Raising my glass I clinked his.
“Here’s to the Women. Without them Life would be damn boring.”