Drowning Lessons
Pabst Blue
It had only been my seventh beer that night, and I had a good excuse tonight. I had to get up early that morning and deal with the morning sun. Warped tour or, just festivals in general were not good for people with the same sleeping patterns of the walking dead. I took out my frustrations on a case of beer I had seen at a party of the guys in The Used. Tonight I planned to drink until I was sick. It didn’t matter that that had been my plan every night for the last few years.
So far, I was well on the way of completing my plan when another rock star, much like myself, sat down next to me and stole one of my beers. All that come out of my mouth was a slurred, “Hey” and a few grumblings about the loss of free alcohol. The sober stranger, only laughed at me before brought the alcohol up to his line of sight. He made a face that suggested the thought of the beer had personally offended him.
“Pabst Blue? You are not hipster enough for that brand.”
“Free beer, is free beer.” I mumbled, annoyed at the insult.
“There’s things better than beer.” Ronnie said in a laughing tone.
“What, do you have any whiskey?” I asked only slurring my words a little, though my question seemed to only make the man to laugh loudly.
“No, I don’t have whiskey, Gerard. I do have ecstasy though.”
I paused, trying to think. Was he offering me ecstasy? I think he was. I tried to think hard, the alcohol muddling my thought process. Should I try it? Something better than this piss water beer would be good, but hard drugs? Maybe?
So far, I was well on the way of completing my plan when another rock star, much like myself, sat down next to me and stole one of my beers. All that come out of my mouth was a slurred, “Hey” and a few grumblings about the loss of free alcohol. The sober stranger, only laughed at me before brought the alcohol up to his line of sight. He made a face that suggested the thought of the beer had personally offended him.
“Pabst Blue? You are not hipster enough for that brand.”
“Free beer, is free beer.” I mumbled, annoyed at the insult.
“There’s things better than beer.” Ronnie said in a laughing tone.
“What, do you have any whiskey?” I asked only slurring my words a little, though my question seemed to only make the man to laugh loudly.
“No, I don’t have whiskey, Gerard. I do have ecstasy though.”
I paused, trying to think. Was he offering me ecstasy? I think he was. I tried to think hard, the alcohol muddling my thought process. Should I try it? Something better than this piss water beer would be good, but hard drugs? Maybe?