Tomorrow Brings Something New
4.
As Tig dried himself off with a slightly dirty towel; having already been used a couple of times beforehand, he walks off to the kitchen and finishes up his coffee.
He doesn't really understand why his hangover is so wild. He didn't drink to the point of blackout which is a more regular occurrence than you'd think. After mulling it over for a few minutes he decides he must be getting sick. Probably from sleeping In a park that night. He still thinks this is improbable as he has a great immune system for someone with so many bad vices and not exactly in his prime either. But he decides this is the simplest answer and gives up at that as everything is taking twice as long as it usually would from his cotton wool brain.
Mug empty, he plops it into the murky, cold washing up water from yesterday. He'll deal with that later. He decides to put something other than his boxers on but to delay going to the the club house for another hour or so to clear his head and ready himself for the day. The trouble now is that there always so much bullshit drama. It's Jax. He just causes it, if he shaved his face and dressed differently he could come across as a whiny teenage bitch in some high school film. It's like he can't settle for anything unless it's to kick up a fuss.
Okay so maybe he's just in a foul mood and decides to take it out on Jax In his mind, but he's fed up. And it's the club that always brings shit into his life that he doesn't usually mind but at that point it was really wearing him down. All this silent bitching is making him feel like the teenage drama antagonist in the film so he decides to shut his mind up with a short walk.
Tig realises he can't do anything more to delay going to the rest of the club. He's resorted to tidying his apartment for fucks sake. Even done the piles of washing up and sprayed some old febreeze some girl who thought she was going to be staying permanently must have taken to his house. Ha. Tig realises he hadn't been with anyone even remotely like a functional relationship for over twenty years now. Sighing, he pulls on his kutte and walks out of the door and to his bike.
On the drive to the club he stops thinking, and just tunnels his thoughts into the immediate. He breathes erratically. This has to be one of the best feelings. A way to get away from everything without getting a hangover or doing anything immoral. Even pussy doesn't do it for him as much as it did. It's just not special anymore. It's more of a formality than a perk, which automatically makes everything boring. He wants something different for once.
He's even slightly disappointed when he get to the club as he could have kept riding for another hour at least. The short ride was enough to slap him into reality. The harsh cold wind sharp against his fluffy brain, preparing for the inevitable mood of the rest of them. Celebrating over nothing's and small victories.
Bobby walks straight up to him and gruffly notes that Tig should start wearing his helmet if he wants to keep his own congealed blood from clotting in his hair. He says this with a smile and a wink before patting him on the back and leading him to the others.
"Chapel in thirty." He comments before walking off. Tig sighs as he slouches onto the bar stool: head in his hands an sighing. After the sigh he decided to man up and smirks into his hands before lifting them from his face. He swivels around, taking in everyone there. Chibs and Juice having an engrossed conversation in one corner, Bobby eying up some barely legal blondes and A couple crow eaters dotted around. Happy is in another corner, already drinking by the looks of it. He decides to go sit with Happ. The least likely to piss him off or want to talk feelings if be notices he was off at all.
In the more comfortable sofa he leans back and places a cigarette between his lips. His mind stumbles as he looks for his lighter and remembers last night with the swing set girl. At that he remembers he put it into the inside pocket of his kutte. As he lights up he closes his eyes and thinks back. He ponders why the girl settles so clearly in his mind oblivious to even Happy's stares of slight confusion.
He doesn't really understand why his hangover is so wild. He didn't drink to the point of blackout which is a more regular occurrence than you'd think. After mulling it over for a few minutes he decides he must be getting sick. Probably from sleeping In a park that night. He still thinks this is improbable as he has a great immune system for someone with so many bad vices and not exactly in his prime either. But he decides this is the simplest answer and gives up at that as everything is taking twice as long as it usually would from his cotton wool brain.
Mug empty, he plops it into the murky, cold washing up water from yesterday. He'll deal with that later. He decides to put something other than his boxers on but to delay going to the the club house for another hour or so to clear his head and ready himself for the day. The trouble now is that there always so much bullshit drama. It's Jax. He just causes it, if he shaved his face and dressed differently he could come across as a whiny teenage bitch in some high school film. It's like he can't settle for anything unless it's to kick up a fuss.
Okay so maybe he's just in a foul mood and decides to take it out on Jax In his mind, but he's fed up. And it's the club that always brings shit into his life that he doesn't usually mind but at that point it was really wearing him down. All this silent bitching is making him feel like the teenage drama antagonist in the film so he decides to shut his mind up with a short walk.
Tig realises he can't do anything more to delay going to the rest of the club. He's resorted to tidying his apartment for fucks sake. Even done the piles of washing up and sprayed some old febreeze some girl who thought she was going to be staying permanently must have taken to his house. Ha. Tig realises he hadn't been with anyone even remotely like a functional relationship for over twenty years now. Sighing, he pulls on his kutte and walks out of the door and to his bike.
On the drive to the club he stops thinking, and just tunnels his thoughts into the immediate. He breathes erratically. This has to be one of the best feelings. A way to get away from everything without getting a hangover or doing anything immoral. Even pussy doesn't do it for him as much as it did. It's just not special anymore. It's more of a formality than a perk, which automatically makes everything boring. He wants something different for once.
He's even slightly disappointed when he get to the club as he could have kept riding for another hour at least. The short ride was enough to slap him into reality. The harsh cold wind sharp against his fluffy brain, preparing for the inevitable mood of the rest of them. Celebrating over nothing's and small victories.
Bobby walks straight up to him and gruffly notes that Tig should start wearing his helmet if he wants to keep his own congealed blood from clotting in his hair. He says this with a smile and a wink before patting him on the back and leading him to the others.
"Chapel in thirty." He comments before walking off. Tig sighs as he slouches onto the bar stool: head in his hands an sighing. After the sigh he decided to man up and smirks into his hands before lifting them from his face. He swivels around, taking in everyone there. Chibs and Juice having an engrossed conversation in one corner, Bobby eying up some barely legal blondes and A couple crow eaters dotted around. Happy is in another corner, already drinking by the looks of it. He decides to go sit with Happ. The least likely to piss him off or want to talk feelings if be notices he was off at all.
In the more comfortable sofa he leans back and places a cigarette between his lips. His mind stumbles as he looks for his lighter and remembers last night with the swing set girl. At that he remembers he put it into the inside pocket of his kutte. As he lights up he closes his eyes and thinks back. He ponders why the girl settles so clearly in his mind oblivious to even Happy's stares of slight confusion.