SOC #32: Curmudgeon Elitest

The hordes were out this weekend and I shut down my recluse tendencies for the three days the tides of drunk sheep roved and rose around the city. Leaving my clean and lonely apartment, I wandered the streets along the sidewalks, at first mostly staring at the ground moving under my body. I so do feel apart from this world like an iPhone held by God, or some other deity to your own preference. The people flowed past me, nearly through me at times, for I was quiet, not desiring any kind of conversation if I could help it. If anyone looked at me, I did not care to notice. After nearly eight blocks I arrived at the bar I frequented every time I went out to be around people I don't know, where the only ones that recognize me is the bartender and one of the bouncers. The place was crowded tonight, making it difficult for me to get to the bar. No stool was available, nor any of the booths or tables. It was five minutes until I could order my beer. The bartender immediately recognized me, saying, "The usual, my main man?" I replied, "Yes. And throw in a shot of the best whiskey as well. The hell with it. Tonight I'll get fucked up." The bartender said joyfully, "Now that's what I like to here. Coming right up." Delivering my drinks to me, the man said, "The game is doing great for my business. Big money for the city." I jokingly said, "Maybe I'll get laid tonight." The bartender nearly yelled, "About fucking time. The nights you come here you're always alone, always sit alone, only talk to me and Charlie. The ladies are out all weekend, day and night. Go get some, sonny. You got plenty to choose from." As I took my shot, some random blond chick hollered, "Fuck yeah! PARTY! SHOTS!" I walked away from her. No way I wanted my cock in her. I made my way through the bar, drinking my beer like a bird, observing the groups of people. Attracting no one's interest, I went to the back patio and lit a cigarette. A women came up to me, asking, "Can I bum a smoke?" I gave her one. She then asked, "Got a light?" As I reached in my pocket for my Gold Zippo lighter, she said, "That's right, honey, I want all that you got." I let her light her own smoke and then walked away when she handed me back my Zippo. Standing in a new spot, smoking my cig, pondering what I could say to a girl I actually liked, a fresh twenty-one year old came up to me. She asked, "You going to the game tomorrow?" I answered, "No. I was invited, but I declined." She asked, "Who invited you?" I informed, "Someone you don't know. A person with big bucks, but no one knows about him." She asked, "How do you know the 'man with big bucks'?" She snickered with pleasure as if she found a diamond ring in the sand. I said, "He was the son of my father's friend. He's sort of like a cousin to me." She asked, "Are you a man with big bucks?" I replied, unmoved by her flirting, "I got an inheritance after both my parents died in a car accident, burning to death." I held up my thumb and forefinger close together for her to see as I continued to say, "It's about this much. I have a guy who gives me a check like that chick in The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, except he doesn't steal my money, or fuck me in the ass." Her jaw dropped, a dumbfounded look on her face as I walked back into the bar, dropping my cig on the concrete before entering. Charlie, the bouncer noticed me. He said, "Hey you. How are things?" I said, "Better if I found a woman worth kissing." Charlie cackled so bad it hurt my ear. I walked to the bar where luckily there was an empty stool. I sat down soothingly. I ordered another beer. The bartender asked, "Any luck?" I shook my head before gulping my second beer. Very well buzzed I decided to talk to the girl next to me. We began to speak of the election. She wanted this guy over this lady, but considered another guy. I said, "I'll tell you the truth so you won't ever have to stress about any such matters again. After any ass-kissing motherfucker is elected, they sit in a conference room at some undisclosed location with a bunch of fat industrial, bank owning scum fucks smoking blunts laced with coke, then shown footage of the JFK assassination that isn't the Zapruder film." She drunkenly asked, "What's a Sapruder film? Is that like a new Ultra HD television, or something?" I finished my beer and walked right out of the bar. I wanted to throw up on somebody, some big tuff guy who'd beat me because he was a dumb oaf who didn't know what the word "Nobility" meant, and I could have him killed in his jail cell. But I couldn't make myself vomit.