Abandoning a Questionably Bright Future

[Strichev]

It was getting late and we were drinking and all, some of my buddies even smoked some synth-weed on the terrace like thing the bar had. To be honest I’ve never willingly or consciously smoked anything. Probably because I believe that it’s just a short road from synth to cardamine. Total BS, if you ask me, but it’s lodged in my head and I can’t get rid of it.

Eventually the company dispersed. Each had a reason. Girlfriends, people they knew, vomiting, whatever. Don’t get me wrong though, I love girls. They can make me lose my head in no time. It’s just that I don’t get very talkative when there’s a shitload of people around. Even if I’m drunk. I suppose that’s shyness or something like that. And I practically hate myself for that, as it’s not a good personal trait, trust me.

So, all of the sudden I was alone in that vomity looking room. The place was soaked in alcohol and smelled like a homeless guy’s coat, or perhaps a destilery, or I dunno what. It gets pretty depressing to be all alone in such a place. The feeling that makes one want to just disappear, or get lost in the vastness of space. Especially when everyone except you seems to have a girlfriend and you’re definitely not the dumbest or ugliest around. They were closing and I had to go to one of those shitty toilets they have in such places. I was taking a leak when an old guy, in one of those fighter pilot jumpsuits, appeared. You could see, even if you’re blind, that he was drunk or stoned to hell. He parked himself right next to mine urinal and such things piss me off. Among all those goddamn urinals in the world the old fuck chose the one right next to me. That alone was weird as hell. And then came the regular what the fuck moment. He started leaning toward me. Naturally I sort of turned away, but he kept peering at me. Other people get mistaken for a cardi dealer or stuff. Not me though, oh no. I get to be in a toilet with an old space homosexual who has had one over the eight. Totally awesome experience, isn’t it?

“Hey, where ya from?” he asked in this uber suave voice. That gave me the creeps. I kept my mouth shut, just in case. But he wouldn’t quit.

“What planet are ya from?”

“LA,” I said. Man was I in a hurry to finish.

“A bad place, ya know. No sidewinder fangs or anything. Just boring Liberty Ale. You gotta get in space, boy. No laws, no shizzle.”

Boy. How I hate that word. The guy’s brain must have been fried by all the space radiation. I muttered something while meddling with my belt. I just couldn’t get it right.

“Listen, ya wearing normal shoes?” To be honest I have no idea why he said that.

“Whaddya mean normal shoes?”

“Water’s flowing, ya don’t wanna get all wet, do ya?”

I couldn’t see that freak that well, but I think he winked at me. That was it. I almost ran out, out on the street, belt fastened or not.