I stare at it.
"Thanks."
I need this...and a lot more where that came from.
Fran's not going to rent me a room and there's not a damn thing I can do about it. I gotta find a place fast; the hole I'm living in is sucking me dry.
I can see it, now-I'm going to end up one of those guys who sleeps in a dumpster and washes your windshield with oily rags for a dollar.
I gotta get Fran to change her mind.
My finger rims the glass.
Fran. I can't charm her like Greg.
Maybe if I just play nice, I can get him to convince her to let me move in. He's easy. He'll let me crash at his place for awhile, but (and it's a big but) he wants something I ain't gonna let him have.
My hand shakes and I grab the drink.
It'll never happen. I could tell that when I saw her. She had that look. You know the one-the "He's-a-guy-and-all-he-wants-to-do-is-screw-me" look.
Yeah, right. Like I want to waste my time trying to hump some dyke who looks like k.d. lang! She cute, but there's more than enough straight women in the world. I don't need to bother with chicks like her.
All I want is her extra bedroom, not her body! Why can't she see that?
I pause the drink at my lips.
I gotta stop drinking this shit.
I hold the drink at my mouth.
Maybe tomorrow.
I throw it back in one toss.
Maybe tomorrow.
I look at the bartender, point at my empty glass and order another.
