ranting
"...all the goddamn time!"
The words slammed into my consciousness. I had been lost in an absence of thought, watching a muted television behind the bar. I held a tumbler over-handed in my fingers with only a few cubes of ice in it. They slid in circles on the oily-brown traces of whiskey in the bottom of the glass as I mindlessly twirled my wrist. I raised my elbow from the surface of the bar so that the glass rose into the air above my head. I waved it slightly to get the bartender's attention. He acknowledged me with a nod.
There are two kinds of drunks in the world: ones who don't give a shit about anything and ones who give a shit about everything. The guy at the other end of the bar was a vocal version of the latter. Any night, any bar, there's always one of these guys. They drunkenly rant all night long, creating a virtual spotlight and soapbox with their boisterous nature.
"And I'll tell you another goddamn thing...."
He apparently was just getting started. The bartender arrived with an open bottle of Johnnie Walker Red and poured me another double. I could see in the bartender's face the worry that he might have to ask Mr. Opinion to leave. There was a hint of embarrassment there, and I could tell he was gauging the room for signs of discomfort as he grew louder and louder. I didn't mind. This was exactly the sort of thing I came here for.
"...is just fuckin' pathetic!"
Pathetic is like the word awesome. Any power or value the word once had has been diminished by constant, exaggerated use. A really delicious cheeseburger is not an "awesome cheeseburger." It's just a great tasting cheeseburger. Somewhere along the way, people began to use the word "pathetic" as an overstatement to describe something which was merely disappointing, rather than something which is actually evocative. "Pathetic" is also used a lot for sarcasm - exaggeration's more sophisticated sibling. My feeling is that the words have come to be misused because its been so long since anyone truly experienced awe or pity.
I spend my days doing graphic design for some Puerto Rican T-shirt screeners. I maintain a modicum of lucidity throughout the day until I get home. Then I drink all night, usually until I black out late in the evening. This gives me a lot of time to fill. Lately, I've had this blog writing contest to occupy some of my time. Usually though, it's spent scribbling half-baked fragments of free verse and watching TV. Most of the time, I prefer this routine. I live alone, I'm largely left alone at work, and I drink alone. I realize this is not normal, and most of the time I can ignore that fact. I do reach a breaking point, however. I'm lying naked in my bed with a weeks worth of empty vodka bottles scattered about the room, having a serious inner dialogue about whether to masturbate to Anjali Rao on the evening news or save myself for Ann Curry on the Today show the next morning.
That is pathetic and that's when I go to the bar. I'm not really interested in meeting anyone there. I'm not interested in any boozer camaraderie or even a sympathetic ear. I go to feel normal again.
The words slammed into my consciousness. I had been lost in an absence of thought, watching a muted television behind the bar. I held a tumbler over-handed in my fingers with only a few cubes of ice in it. They slid in circles on the oily-brown traces of whiskey in the bottom of the glass as I mindlessly twirled my wrist. I raised my elbow from the surface of the bar so that the glass rose into the air above my head. I waved it slightly to get the bartender's attention. He acknowledged me with a nod.
There are two kinds of drunks in the world: ones who don't give a shit about anything and ones who give a shit about everything. The guy at the other end of the bar was a vocal version of the latter. Any night, any bar, there's always one of these guys. They drunkenly rant all night long, creating a virtual spotlight and soapbox with their boisterous nature.
"And I'll tell you another goddamn thing...."
He apparently was just getting started. The bartender arrived with an open bottle of Johnnie Walker Red and poured me another double. I could see in the bartender's face the worry that he might have to ask Mr. Opinion to leave. There was a hint of embarrassment there, and I could tell he was gauging the room for signs of discomfort as he grew louder and louder. I didn't mind. This was exactly the sort of thing I came here for.
"...is just fuckin' pathetic!"
Pathetic is like the word awesome. Any power or value the word once had has been diminished by constant, exaggerated use. A really delicious cheeseburger is not an "awesome cheeseburger." It's just a great tasting cheeseburger. Somewhere along the way, people began to use the word "pathetic" as an overstatement to describe something which was merely disappointing, rather than something which is actually evocative. "Pathetic" is also used a lot for sarcasm - exaggeration's more sophisticated sibling. My feeling is that the words have come to be misused because its been so long since anyone truly experienced awe or pity.
I spend my days doing graphic design for some Puerto Rican T-shirt screeners. I maintain a modicum of lucidity throughout the day until I get home. Then I drink all night, usually until I black out late in the evening. This gives me a lot of time to fill. Lately, I've had this blog writing contest to occupy some of my time. Usually though, it's spent scribbling half-baked fragments of free verse and watching TV. Most of the time, I prefer this routine. I live alone, I'm largely left alone at work, and I drink alone. I realize this is not normal, and most of the time I can ignore that fact. I do reach a breaking point, however. I'm lying naked in my bed with a weeks worth of empty vodka bottles scattered about the room, having a serious inner dialogue about whether to masturbate to Anjali Rao on the evening news or save myself for Ann Curry on the Today show the next morning.
That is pathetic and that's when I go to the bar. I'm not really interested in meeting anyone there. I'm not interested in any boozer camaraderie or even a sympathetic ear. I go to feel normal again.