Post by Fonos on Feb 22, 2014 22:44:06 GMT -5
“Fuck this.”
He had, in the past decade, become a terrible alcoholic.
Jefferson denied it to everyone, even himself, but he was finally forced to admit it - nobody else would be putting on their shoes at 3 AM after going through their entire stock of alcoholic beverages within a 72 hour period just to hit the bar and drink more.
“I have a problem.”
And it can wait to be solved.
Placing one of his most recently made top hats - Might as well look whiskey neat, right? - atop his head, he made his way out the door. He’d seen a bar nearby called Cady’s Place and while it sounded a bit too upbeat for his liking based on the name, it had a classically rustic look from the outside that appealed to Jeff.
Within a few minutes, his brisk walk came to an end and he was opening the door to find drunken laughter filling his ears. Rambunctious music played from somewhere near the back, and large groups of sweaty - but surprisingly well dressed - individuals threw drinks back like pros.
Distastefully scrunching his nose, he went up to one of the open barstools and flagged down the bartender (Cady?). He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but in all his theoretical scenarios coming over, he had pictured ~Cady~ as a stereotypically butch caucasian. But if anything, this woman had a femininity that reminded him of those loud mouthed women who sheltered Henry’s life.
Putting it out of his mind as she eventually came over, Jefferson asked, “Can I get, uh, whatever you think is the strongest? In a nice tall glass.” After giving such a specific order, Jefferson felt satisfied to look off into the distance and contemplate life.
Cadrina Mills
He had, in the past decade, become a terrible alcoholic.
Jefferson denied it to everyone, even himself, but he was finally forced to admit it - nobody else would be putting on their shoes at 3 AM after going through their entire stock of alcoholic beverages within a 72 hour period just to hit the bar and drink more.
“I have a problem.”
And it can wait to be solved.
Placing one of his most recently made top hats - Might as well look whiskey neat, right? - atop his head, he made his way out the door. He’d seen a bar nearby called Cady’s Place and while it sounded a bit too upbeat for his liking based on the name, it had a classically rustic look from the outside that appealed to Jeff.
Within a few minutes, his brisk walk came to an end and he was opening the door to find drunken laughter filling his ears. Rambunctious music played from somewhere near the back, and large groups of sweaty - but surprisingly well dressed - individuals threw drinks back like pros.
Distastefully scrunching his nose, he went up to one of the open barstools and flagged down the bartender (Cady?). He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but in all his theoretical scenarios coming over, he had pictured ~Cady~ as a stereotypically butch caucasian. But if anything, this woman had a femininity that reminded him of those loud mouthed women who sheltered Henry’s life.
Putting it out of his mind as she eventually came over, Jefferson asked, “Can I get, uh, whatever you think is the strongest? In a nice tall glass.” After giving such a specific order, Jefferson felt satisfied to look off into the distance and contemplate life.
Cadrina Mills