The guests, most more or less already in a rather ebullient mood, were slowly beginning to up their conversations’ loudness. An uninformed observer may attribute this to the decreasing number of free tables - and that wouldn’t be far from the truth. The more likely cause, as anyone with a basic understanding of human biology would attest to, could be found in the ever decreasing stock of various beverages. And the consumption would have decreased the stock at an even greater pace, if it hadn’t been for the (at least from a business oriented perspective) barely tolerable habit of younger guests to drink enough (of the cheaper liquids found in regular stores) outside and only have the one over the eight inside. Harsh economic times require desperate measures. And so does a supposedly thriving economy of Los Angeles.
That last part, of course, is an entirely irrelevant thing, something no one cared about. As long as the general growth indicators were in the positive zone it was all good. How difficult it is to get decent job is well known to any resident of LA that isn’t at the very top of the chain.
Such thoughts inhabited Andrew’s mind as he made past the entrance. After all he and his schoolmates were supposed to surpass the common lot of youths on all intellectual levels.
How conceited I am. But it’s all void, a pile of BS.
“A beer!” he shouted at the waitress while resting a fair bit of his 60 kilograms, spread across 183cm of skeletal frame, on the not yet beer drenched bar counter. He certainly wasn’t a dread inducing figure, and a peer of a bit sturdier build, who apparently didn’t care to wait for his beer, simply grabbed the oh-so-intelligent, most certainly to a bright future heading Andrew Wheatfield (that happened to be in the way), and quite literally shifted him to the side. The noise and music drowned the indignant hail of words, that wouldn’t pass any descent swear filter. So efficiently was the utterance lost that even the best of sleuths couldn't have heard anything.
With a bottle of beer and a firm grudge against the whole world Andrew then proceeded to look for a free table. Unfortunately his vision was slowly getting a bit unreliable and he missed a table or two; lost in the hazy air. So he headed towards the only table that seemed to resemble a vacant one. One person sitting there? Close enough! Only after already sitting down he remembered to ask whether it was ok for him to do that. Not waiting for an answer he started to talk; as many otherwise quiet people do in certain beer involving circumstances.
Hah, why? Why look bitter? I could be bitter. Because everyone who wishes so can (insert appropriate inappropriate word) move me around like I’m nothing? Well, I am nothing. We all are nothing without a spaceship! No future here!
Apparently the person with a comm device seemed a bit bitter to him.
