Bar Scenes

I.

What makes a human being exactly?

Now, I'm not talking about biology here, 

Homosapien Sapien, I get it, that's not the point.

I am talking about a human being. 

Some one who is thoughtful, concerned, ambitious, useful,

you know, a real human being.

I know enough about history to know that this is a dangerous thought,

but I have thought it nonetheless. I have thought it many times.

You have to, admit it.

Of course I'm not talking about "ethnic cleansing" or some new holocaust.

But, you know, cleansing...it really does make a lot of sense.

Seriously, look around you sometime when you're in the thick of it,

really immersed in a crowd of humanity. 

Look at the people you are inevitably surrounded by.

Look into their eyes sometime.

There is nothing there.   

And these people, you just know they are feeding off the goodwill 

of decent, hardworking useful, REAL human beings without shame.

Let's be honest, these things we still call "human beings," they're trash.

They are trash that drag us down, and keep us from collectively

being a better society of human beings.

Sorry, I'm a little drunk, but you know that what I'm saying

really does make at least a little bit of sense.

II.

Here's the thing, I'm ambitious.

I'm not bragging, but I know I am most intellectually stimulated

and satisfied when I am challenged with a task that my peers

believe I am incapable of doing. I am competitive, but I play fair.

I know that I am attractive, and yes, that may have been one of the reasons

I have been privy to certain opportunities in my life,

but I have always proved to be completely capable of any task handed to me.

I do not, will not, refuse to rely on my looks to get ahead in business.

Nevertheless, since most of the time I am completely immersed in work,

sometimes I need an escape. I need a release.

Sex is the easiest release, especially when I drink.

It's not necessarily about getting off (though I would never complain about that!)

It's more about being wanted, being needed for the most basic thing that I am,

at least for one night.

Sometimes, being called a slut is a small vacation from being called a bitch.

Being called a bitch is the world's equivalent to being called an ambitious woman.

Being called a slut is the world's equivalent to being called a bitch

who still needs to be needed sometimes.

I refuse to feel guilty about my own ambition,

or my need to be loved sometimes, okay?

Now, are you buying shots?

III.

Man, there's not very many girls here.

SAU-SAGE FEST!

I might end up at the strip club tonight.

I started my new job a couple of weeks back.

It's been great having the extra cash,

but, you know, it's a job.

I only have the weekend to really live it up anymore.

It's good though, I've got to grow up a little.

I've got to think about my future a little bit,

at least during the work week.

That's why I've got to make the weekends count. 

You know what I'm saying, right?

I've got to party as long as I can, man.

Because, you know I'm not an idiot.

Someday I just won't have the energy

to keep going the way I've been going.

That's why I've got to get it while I can.

Hey, who was that girl you were just talking to?

You know, the slutty looking one.

Did you buy her a shot?

I think I'm going to buy her a shot.

Did you get her name?

IV.

Why are the most weak minded people always the people who need

to prove to you that they know everything that ever needed to be known?

Smart, considerate, unconditionally good people continue

to stand up for such a fool's right to simply exist and be happy,

year after year, decade after decade, century after century.

And do you know how these dumb bastards react to these

smart, kind, and usually depressed people's support?

These fools accuse them of being weak!

These fools openly endorse some cold politician

with an anti intellectual agenda, who fully intends

to exploit their rage and stupidity for profit!

Maybe the worse thing any parent, or teacher, or whatever

can do is teach a child to care about the welfare 

of their fellow man or woman.

That lesson is a life lesson of eternal misery.

Maybe the best lesson to teach a child is:

"We're shit! Do whatever you want because 

being kind and considerate is a chump's route!"

Here Lies Civilization: Fuck you! Fuck me! Fuck Everyone!

He should have tried harder and cared less.

That's my epitaph.

Bartender, another beer!

V.

What's that guy so worked up for?

Is he out bar hopping?

That's the time to get fucked up!

That's what me and my boys are doing,

we're getting fucked up!

Woot!

Yo, listen to this, last week, my boy, Gordo,

he drank like a fifth before we even went out.

Just pre-gaming, you know what I'm saying?

He told us that the only thing he was going to say

that night was "fuck me" and nothing else.

So we put down about 10 drinks between 3 bars.

Sure enough all night, all Gordo did

was walk up to girls and say "fuck me."

Some of the girls slapped him first thing.

Some of the girls tried to ignore it 

and start up a conversation,

but Gordo would just keep on saying it

over and over to them, "fuck me."

This one girl got real mad 

and she went and got her boyfriend.

This dude started to get up in Gordo's face,

but I made it pretty clear that I had Gordo's back,

if you know what I mean, so he backed down.

Him and his girlfriend left pretty quick after that.

Pussy.

Anyways, the night went on,

and the girls at the bar started getting drunk,

and do you know what?

Finally, this chick that Gordo kept "talking to,"

if you know what I'm saying?

Well, let's just say Gordo most definitely hit that shit.

Chicks are so fucking stupid, man.

VI.

No really, I mean it.

There is enough pessimism in this world to go around.

Hell, there is enough pessimism in this bar to go around.

Seriously, look at all these people's faces!

You just can't let that affect you.I won't let it affect me.

Sure, bad things happen in this world,

atrocities both natural and man made.

I just don't see how someone can use 

such terrible things as an excuse to be

bitter and pessimistic.

Not here, at least. Their are no Elie Wiesels in this place.

None of these so called "atrocities," 

natural or man made, happen to anyone here. 

So why dwell on them? Honestly it does not make sense.

I'll tell you what the core of the problem is,

no one seems to be living in the now.

People are either living in future tense, 

where they can't see anything as good 

because it could always be better, 

or they are living in past tense,

where they believe that everything is too easy

in comparison with every generation before them.

Both trains of thought become an excuse to be depressed.

Depression is an addiction, make no mistake about that.

And, as it should be, depression is the most

depressing addiction I could ever imagine.

Let me put it this way:

You can avoid the ride,

or you can complain about the ride.

Me? I prefer to just enjoy the ride.

Sorry, I don't drink very often,

it makes me a little crazy.

VII.

I don't drink very much these days.

In college I use to drink a lot.

Everything was so confusing back then,

I felt like I was suppose to be striving for some

successful lifestyle that, at the time,

just sounded like an emotionally sterile 

and repressed life.

Maybe that's why I drank so much back then. 

My mind told me that I should be striving for something

monetarily efficient and emotionally void,

but my heart told me I really didn't want that.

So I repressed my emotions so much

because I thought it was right thing to do.

That is, until I drank and when I did, I just let loose.

I made a lot of really bad mistakes at the time.

But you know what, I'm still here.

I may not be smarter, but I do think

that I'm a little bit wiser.

Thank God I found my husband, 

or he found me...whatever.

I have really discovered happiness.

Of course I found happiness where I always

tried to deny it would be. I found it in love.

Whatever, it sounds cheesy, but I don't care.

My happiness and his happiness matter way 

more to me than being sexy or cool.

Happiness is giving up on what your childish mind

thinks is important and realizing what is really important.

Talking about this is going to make me cry.

This is why I don't drink! I get so emotional!

I can't help it.

Love is not passion. Passion leads to 

pain and disappointment.

I don't go out unless he does,

because he wants to.

I try to keep it to a bare minimum.

VIII.

I do think there is something creative, intellectual, 

and romantic about drinking. I like to say,

"Thinking culture is drinking culture."

or wait, maybe it's the other way around?

I guess it's a chicken or egg situation.

There's a lot of cultural evidence to support 

that case, though. Look at writers:

Ernest Hemingway, James Joyce, Dylan Thomas,

Raymond Carver, John Cheever,Charles Bukowski, 

I mean the list goes on and on.

You'd be hard up to find a writer who 

was not perpetually sauced.

Sure, its a tragic life, but didn't the Buddha

say "Life is Suffering."

Whoa-boy, Hermann Hesse, that guy was a drinker.

Am I a writer? I don't know,

maybe you could call me an aspiring writer.

I'm working on a story, who knows, it might

be a novella by the time I get through with it.

Hmm? What's it about?

Well, it's about a couple of guys, real creative types.

They meet and drink and sort of express their opinions

to each other because they have no creative release

in the oppressive and boring environment they live within.

What happens in the story?

Well, it's still in the planning stages. I have some

kinks that I have to work out, you know?

What are you trying to accomplish with this?

See, that's what you have to do as an artist,

run with an idea and look back at these vignettes

of small ideas and, you know, develop one

big idea that sort of connects them all.

So, can you buy me a drink?

I've been a little strapped for cash lately.

IX.

Let me give you some advice,

Never get married.

I'm Joking! But only half joking.

When I met her she was wild.

She was wild in the best way,

like a lioness.

Lioness's are wild, right?

Anyways, she was always getting into trouble,

mischief, mayhem, damn, it was so sexy.

I had nothing like her ever, and here's the kicker,

in the bedroom, at home...

She was just the most giving, most loving,

most nurturing creature you could ever imagine.

Totally wild, totally loving, totally total.

Seriously, I loved her.

Sorry, sorry, I love her is what I mean.

I do love her, I don't know what I would do without her.

But...well...she changed.

She still gives, she still cares, but, I don't know.

She doesn't really care about me.

She cares about us, our home, 

how happy we seem to our friends.

She cares about us being the perfect married couple.

Jesus, I can't believe how selfish I sound right now.

I just wish she cared about just me, sometimes.

I wish she cared about me like she use to.

There's nothing wild about her anymore.

She's refined... and with a vengeance!

Christ, it's good to get drunk and let this out.

X.

I guess if I am trying to say anything

it's that there is only one true criminal act.

Of course there are crimes that are not be tolerated,

but many of the crimes in which society finds deplorable

are, in nature, not only acceptable, but necessary.

Rape, killing, feeding off of the young and weak,

all these things are natural. So when you

consider both civilization and the natural world

you have to really consider this obvious

contradiction between them.

Look, I am educated and critical, 

but I am still pretty young especially when it comes to my mind.

Being smart and being wise are two different things,

and that makes more and more sense the older I get.

So with all my thinking and considering and reconsidering

it still seems that there is only one true criminal act,

and that is an act of the mind.

It is when a person's mind sees that a specific act

will benefit them and them alone at the cost of one

or many others. And despite the fact that they know,

I mean, really know it is a completely selfish act, 

they still do it. 

But here's the kicker, at least in my thoughts.

Even if this crime is not punished in the world,

it is most certainly punished in the criminal's mind.

Even if the criminal can ignore that truth 

with worldly distraction, it is still waiting to pop up

some day when the distractions run out.

I know it seems so benign, but is it really?

I don't think that it is, do you know why?

Because I have felt it, and anyone who has ever done 

something they know they should not has felt it too.

It is not a good feeling, but it must be dealt with.

The bible says that "sin is sin" no matter what it is.

So I think what I'm saying is "guilt is guilt."

Despite society, despite some doctrine or dogma,

Feeling like shit because of the things that

we have done is a reality of life, and we are the

only species of animal that feels it.
At least as far as we know now.

What exactly are we suppose to do with this reality?

Well, I don't know, and because I am trying to explain this

is the very same reason why I am drunk right now.

Understand? 

Epilogue.

Billy. Billy?

Wh...where the hell am I?

You...you seen Billy?

man I...am...Fucked up right now...