I am soon reduced to being nothing more than a fiend looking for my next fix . The release of the violence is more than just fleeting , it is soul crushing . As the other bouncers smile at me as though I ’ ve done something special , I feel like crawling into a hole because I know the truth : I am nothing more than a bully .
I walk straight to the counter , squeeze past the line-up of people waiting for drinks and take a rum and coke from the bartender . I slide through the crowd , which seems to have doubled since the confrontation . I feel small and insignificant as I sit back on my stool , sip my drink , puff on a cigarette , and feel a knot building in my stomach .
Now what ? The rage has been dulled by the confrontation , but I can feel it building back quickly , too quickly .
You will never escape . The urge to get high is irresistible , so I head back to the entrance . I need air .
“ I ’ ll be back ” I say as I pass Bryson and Phil , who has returned from doing whatever or whoever , and I walk out the front door . I ’ m walking but I am directionless . I pass the entrance to the bar , and I can see the band through the open doors finishing they ’ re last set . There are less people in the bar now that the lounge and the club are both open , and there are throngs of people mingling about the parking lot .
I try to avoid being noticed as I walk around the building to my car . It ’ s dark and desolate in this corner of the lot under the tree and so far from any lights , but I don ’ t need light to pour a pile of coke onto the hood of my car and snort .
I lean against the car and struggle to breath . I ……. am ……. drowning ………!
An hour later I ’ m sitting on my stool in the corner of the night club , and I ’ ve once again picked out my prey . She ’ s still with the same friends that she was sitting with on the other side in front of the stage . They are all dancing amidst the crowd to Coolio ’ s hit song , Gangster Paradise . Now that she ’ s standing and swaying to the music , she appears even sexier than before . Our eyes meet once again .
You ’ re a dirtbag . Why do they fuck you ? You ’ re a pig .
When the night comes to an end and the mass of bodies on the dance floor are all dripping with sweat and people begin to stagger towards the door , I don ’ t bother with tact or class when I approach her .
“ Wanna take me home ?” It ’ s the only words I ’ ve spoken to her all night .
I ’ m sure now as I look into her innocent , intelligent grey eyes that it ’ s not the booze or the drugs that makes her appear even more beautiful when the lights come on .
“ Ok ,” she replies after receiving a shrug from her friends who she ’ s turned to for guidance . The girl looks young and innocent . “ I ’ m Sharon ,” she adds as an afterthought . I honestly don ’ t give a shit what her name is , I just need the release .
Why do they fuck you ?
“ How old are you ?” I ask her as we walk towards the front door . I ’ m taking a smoke out of the pack , and I put one in my mouth and hold the pack out to offer her one and she shakes her head and tells me she ’ s nineteen and no , she doesn ’ t smoke . We walk in silence around the building , into the dark , towards my car .