Spittle is flying from his quivering upper lip. A hairy upper lip. No doubt far hairier than my own upper lip. I don’t seem to be great at growing facial hair. That’s fine though, I’ll live.
It’s warm, drinking in the afternoon does always seem to be. Must be a mixture of the golden beverage and the sweaty pub innards. Moisture in the form of spittle flying. What number am I on now? 3 or 4? That’s probably not good. Head is starting swim.
My torso stays in the exact same position while I swing my legs anticlockwise around the bar stool, as if I am suddenly being governed by an internal gyroscope. The liquid is pooling in my skull, brain floating in a liquid gyroscope. I must relieve the excess fluid.
Fast walk to the stall doors. It seems fast to me. He who breaks the seal first, loses. Well someone always has to lose. There are pictures of women on the bathroom stall doors, but at the top of the door I can clearly read the word ‘Gents’. Well that’s a little confusing to say the least. My brain isn’t floating in liquid, it’s submerged in jelly.
I piss. And I lose.
Walking back, I try to pace myself. Haven’t eaten much today. That’s not good. My liver is crying out in protest for what I am intending to do with my third (or fourth?) beer; finish it.
That’s it, no, no more thanks. Well ok, maybe just one. Idiot. Now it’s definitely 4. At least 4.
I have to piss again. Everyone else has as well but I didn’t want to lose the second round too. Shit. Looks like I have to do just that. Can one break the seal again? It was already broken though. How many times have I walked through these stall doors? ‘Gents’. Pictures of ladies.
Sitting in an Uber, head lolling on my shoulders. Keep it together. It’s warm in the car as well. The stink of an Uber is different to the stink of a bar. I am not sure which stink I prefer. Home, girlfriend’s home.
Focus on the hair, it’s dog hair, you can do it. Unfortunately, I could not do it. There is a second seal to break. The vomit seal. And with a head swimming in liquor, I break this seal too. Oh no. Just sit and chill, it doesn’t have to be the same as the urination seal. You are all done now. Let’s go lie on the bed.
Why did the bed need to be in a room on the first floor? The elevation change proves too much, and so I vomit. Again. The taste is sharp in my mouth. Stomach acid should stay in the stomach. My body fits very snugly around the porcelain bowl. I need to pass out.
Lying down with nothing in my stomach, and my vision swimming, I black out.