“I get filthy when that liquor get into me.”
It’s always a joy to recollect a night out, especially on Day 2 of hangover-recovery. Moments, like the fragmented body parts of the rain-sunken possum floating face down in the flower-pot outside, seem to surface to the top of my consciousness at the most random moments (when I was trying to find a good position not to vomit, for example). Overall, I feel the night was a success, and I mean that in the most liver-inconsiderate way.
You see, I don’t go out very often, so when I do… I really go out. Now that I am currently not in college, I think I try to overcompensate when I get a rare chance to party. It’s like a have a point to prove. My point on Saturday was the VIP section at Haven, a new nightclub in Atlantic City’s Golden Nugget casino.
After not so subtly sneaking past the Cool Asians’ velvet rope and being subsequently removed, I proclaimed that I would be a VIP by the end of the night. Not that I’m not already Very Important, but um, HELLO…. bottle service and a seat! Who doesn’t want to sit and drink at a nightclub? Who doesn’t want to belong? Between breaking the dress code by wearing shorts (don’t ask me what happened to the pants I got in with), pole dancing during what I think was a sexy Rihanna song, and unsuccessfully VIP’ing myself, I knew I had to be a little more strategic, lest the security guard follow through on his threat to escort me out.
Finally, I spotted my savior. Across the dance-floor from the Cool Asians was a Hot Mom with an empty spot on her Very Important Couch. Instead of appearing thirsty and asking for a drink, I instead asked her if I could sit down next to her – you know, because I was sooo tired of dancing. Surprisingly, she agreed to let me have a seat, much to the disappointment of her not-as-hot friend who kept shaking her head at me.
Hot Mom invited me into her space like some of… mother. Without me having to ask, she poured me a drink as we introduced ourselves. Turns out she actually was a mother and she had bought out the VIP section for her friend’s birthday. I can’t recall her name, but she was nice and we are now Instagram friends. Like breast milk to a hungry baby, Hot Mom pacified my insatiable desire and made my Very Important Dream come true (does this sound Freudian to anyone else?).
It’s a crutch, it’s a crutch, it’s a beautiful crutch
Constructed like time itself
Held as reality, regarded as law
But flawed and conceptual on a good day
It’s time to give it up
How long will I smoke this tree
Choking on blunt debris with a pair of lungs unseen
Not playing fair but praying on this tainted air
Hoping to a degree that this high won’t lose its steam
I be dreaming until I wake up
Then fall back asleep
In an instant
Beats me why, but it be
Between the teeth, diet cheating
Guilty grieving, chasing blood with leaves
Trying to deceive myself into accepting the savory savagery
Just one more bite
There is a thirst to be quelled
But I can’t bear to drink any more
There is a place called hell
But it is too close to my front door
My home is not where I was reared
But I was raised somewhere near
Right around here, in a world of fear
But somehow, I love it dearly