As I roll out of bed I wipe the scum of last night from my face. Still having the greasy gel in my hair from work yesterday. Wearing a new cologne I’ve not been able to wear until now, it’s called ‘you smell like a fucking bar’. Those shady bars and late nights are worth the enjoyment derived from the local talents though. I pull a fresh shirt over my head and leave the three drifting musicians to rest up for the next leg of their journey. Slowly stumbling down the stairs, still half asleep, I question my own competency to drive fueled on a few hours of sleep and the calories of the dark beer I had drank the night before. On my drive I recall all drinking I’ve put behind me, and am glad that there is no novelty left in the idea of ‘finally being 21’. I don’t have the availability of money to waste on overpriced beverages that do nothing but cloudy my mind. I need to think and see clearly these days. So I do not fear that I will join that exclusive club of people, the unachieving alcoholic college fuck ups! Peac