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Jessie-ica Diaz · (12-06-2013)

I had never been what you called a 'big drinker'. In my life alcohol just wasn't a huge factor. Sure there was an occasional beer here or there at a barbecue or something, but it never rose up more than that. So the idea of drowning my thoughts with liquor now; while starting off as a good idea, ended up being me, staring at a glass of scotch, watching the ice cubes slowly dissolve.

Sure, I wanted the quick fix. The easy answer and a simple solution for me to get out of my head, for at least a small portion of time, but then what? What happened after that? I couldn't hide my thoughts from myself forever and really, did I want that if I could? Things were fucking grim and depressing, but running away from those thoughts wouldn't stop them. If anything, pushing them down would make everything worse in the long run. No. Suppressing wasn't the answer and alcohol wasn't my ticket to peace of mind. Mental salvation, would come eventually.

Maybe.

Although even if it never, truly came....at least I wasn't taking a cheap way out. At least I wasn't numbing and subduing my own mind cause what, I couldn't handle shit? Fuck that. Really, what kind of pussy shit was that? I can't handle my own thoughts, so I need to blank them out and smother my brain a bit. What a load of crap. No, if anything that's what this Saturday was for. A release from stress without sedating myself. Kicking the shit out of people and getting paid for it. That was the real way to relieve the frustrations of all this shit that's been going on.

As I went to rise from my seat, a hand slapped over the glass that was in front of me and snatched it up. I turned and watched as - Luca Arzegotti; a man I only knew from brief encounters of seeing him stumble by in the halls of the XWF and occasionally catching a promo from him here and there, drank down the glass of scotch and belched loudly before slamming the glass back down on the bar.

You didn't seem like a drinker anyway.

I'm not.

So what's the deal? You just like coming to a bar and buying a drink that some asshole like me will eventually steal cause you enjoy enabling others' addictions? Or what? What's your deal?

My deal? Well...it's not something I'd like to share. Especially with a stranger.

Doesn't that make me the best person to talk to? A completely unbiased stranger. Wait, I gotta be honest though, I'm not completely unbiased. I kinda know who you are. You're that Frank Thursday, right?

Joe Tuesday.

Close enough.

Yeah and I know you're - Luca Arzegotti. Part of The Black Circle and that freaky alien's side kick.

Hey! That freaky alien has a name, it's Mr. Supernova and he's my side kick, not the other way around! Luca Arzegotti is a center stage man! Not an off to the right, back corner, half hidden by a curtain guy.

Okay. Well, I think it's about time for me to go.

No, come on man. I was serious. A guy like me is the best person to share your shit with. Plus I'm certain by the time I wake up tomorrow ~~morning~~ afternoon, I won't remember any of this.

Sigh.

If you must know, I got divorced today.

Shit. That's it.

Yeah, that's it. It was a big deal though. I was married to her for five years.

So. Now you're free from that. Look man, the way I see it is...if that's your biggest problem, than you should feel fucking lucky. There's a lot worse things that could happen and at least that shit ended before you were in your late forties. All old about it and shit. Bitches come and go man. Just look at this as your fresh start. That cunt did you a favor.

How did you know it wasn't me who left her?

Cause you seemed upset and if you had been the one to axe that shit, you wouldn't be here 'attempting' to drink, or whatever that fucking sorry ass display was. You'd actually be celebrating your freedom.

I suppose that's true.

Of course that's true. I'm Luca Arzegotti, I'm a God damn genius.

I don't know about that, but your advice did kind of help. Thanks.

Yeah....yeah, whatever man. I just say it like I see it. Now if you'll excuse me, I think I need to see the cocaine about some bathroom.

What?

Exactly.

As I watched Luca, hurl himself towards the bathroom, rolling across a couple of tables on the way and headbutting a waitress...I couldn't help but wonder if that was going to be the last time I'd talk to that crazy kid. The answer was - yes. I would avoid that fucking scumbag like Peter Gilmour avoided common sense.

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