Dawn Of The Drunkards

Dollar Beer night is the light at the end of the tunnel for a lot of desperate party owls looking for a deviation in the typical day to day slumming. All the city rats, snakes, vultures, vermin, worm jockeys, cock blockers and shit talkers in a widespread radius rendezvous at this abode of treachery to take part in wild orgies of debauchery and disgrace. A group of raving miscreants that can only be closely compared to the rotting stench of a dead hooker in a motel bathtub. I step towards the entrance and proceed to be thoroughly patted down as a man with a crooked hat and his weight in gold around his neck gives the bouncers a handshake and walks right in unmolested. Little old Dave, the dangerous, homicidal aspiring writer, gets his balls diddled like a speed bag while the not-so-inconspicuous drug dealer (probably armed to the teeth, fresh out of jail for drug-related charges and just arrived from raping some unsuspecting girl under a bridge just shy of the downtown stretch) strolls in like he's at the walk-in clinic for a flu shot. Once inside (dick receding internally like a turtle in a shell after being violated by the Boulder from the opening scene in Raiders of the Lost Ark) the madness begins.
I go up to the bar where a stunningly gorgeous waitress coaxes me into buying a 5 dollar shot I told myself earlier I would avoid. Strike one. This place has already begun to baste and season my sorry, weak-willed ass in preparation for my eventual consumption. I've been here before though and am able to identify this, so my guard is set from stun to kill. Throwing another 5 dollars onto the bar, I tell the same waitress to give me 5 beers. I turn to the masses and behold this abysmal vision of filthy wretches whose morals are at an all time low. I start to drink (some more due to my hefty pre-drinking session beforehand) and continue my silent survey. Girls are dancing provocatively while clumsy, foolish men, who have drank just the right amount of courage, force these girls into some aesthetically nauseating shuffle by emerging behind them, grabbing them without so much as a warning, and executing that thrusting motion often misperceived as a dancing technique by most men. Some girls will look at them as if they reek of excrement (which most probably do) and walk away from this shameful scene, leaving the guy with the daunting task of making that flub look like part of his "groove". Other girls, unfortunately a staggering majority, fall right into the guys poorly played, hackneyed plan and end up having his child 9 months later. Children conceived under the optimistic philosophical notion that not being able to remember it, gates as a contention to it never taking place. But when substantial evidence falls from pleasure valley, this slimy pit of human filth will suddenly become the keystone of your life's mold.
At this point I am not sure whether I'm drinking for my own enjoyment, or so I can forget where I am. I suddenly feel the courage coming on as I contemplate contributing some of my own miserable attempts to woo a distaff member of this present population. As I finish my beer, I set my sights on the horizons, pick my target (as per my trademark, I tell one of my buddies to "Watch This", as if my scene was coming up in some on screen performance) and I march forth. In my head, I run through a list of ice breakers (stopping for a disturbingly long time at the aforementioned guys plan) before finally deciding that plans never work and to wing it. She is dancing with a girl I can only assume is one of her friends (although this day in age, those kind of assumptions can be disastrous). Her graceful movements momentarily make me re-evaluate my entire mission; the possibility of me aborting this foolhardy misadventure growing ever closer. That's when a favoured song of mine thunders from above and as if possessed by some image incinerating poltergeist who's decided he's had enough of my apprehensive antics, I begin to move freely to the music. Me and said girl make eye contact and she gives me a little smile. I wonder if she's amused by my decision to subject myself to this ultimate embarrassment, or if she is sending me a signal. Opting to pursue the latter, I dance my dumbass over there and suddenly we are face to face. I give her a smile and lean in to introduce myself. As I am in mid-lean, she hunches over and whispers something in her friend's ear and they have a little chuckle to themselves. So once again, I'm left over-thinking the situation but the courage flowing in my veins is strong and I fearlessly plow forward. She turns back to me.
"I'm Scarlett." she says in a seductive voice that almost sent me to my knees like a panhandling, crack-bum begging for a piece of rock. But composed I remained and we danced on.
After a while I decide I need some more courage and invite Scarlett to join me. My treat, I say. She grins at me, takes my hand and I lead her over to the raised platform of purchasable punishment. However, at this point, no matter the contempt that I may direct towards this place, on this night, it is my sanctuary. We have a few drinks, and I perform nothing short of a stellar comedy routine fit for kings like Bill Hicks or Bill Cosby. But there is a time to be funny and a time to be serious and I often forget that. As if remotely controlled by some twisted, technological cupid, I lean in and kiss Scarlett with all the passion that a beauty of this magnitude induces in even the most repressed of physical beings. I kiss her long and am consumed by a feeling of blissful euphoria at the hands of this amazing moment. I pull back and look deep into her beautiful eyes. She stares somewhat nervously at the floor for a second before slowly throwing her head back and looking at me with a look of sheer infatuation and lust.
"I've never met a girl like you before." I say, as confident as Roger Moore in the old James Bond flicks. The most beautiful smile is cast across her face as I am swept away by her very essence.
"I feel the same way." she replies, as a state of relief and excitement wells within me.
I enjoy the moment for a few more seconds before deciding to attend to the burning urge behind the zipper located sub-waist. No, you perverted sex mongers, I didn't have a chubby, (well maybe a half chubby) I hadn't cracked my seal yet and it was due time to drain my main vein. I kiss her once more and then begin my voyage to meet with the porcelain gods. Thankfully this was a pleasant visit and not a cursed endeavor as many a drinking night can turn out to be. As I finish off my business, I come to a realization that, for so long I had denounced this place as a haven for scum and scallywags but have ironically struck gold encased in these walls. I had found something so rare and profound that I was still overcome by the initial shock. Perhaps this was not such a bad place after all.
So I start heading back to the spot where Scarlett was awaiting my return, when I accidentally bump into a sizy fellow after trying to work my way through a large crowd. I try to keep moving but I hear the growls of imminent conflict in the midst. I turn and see him coming towards me so I halt my escape and calmly try to placate the situation. Before I know it I am surrounded by 5 gorilla's and my thoughts are now focused on the mistake that the Boulder must have made when he let these 5 forest dwelling monsters into the bar and the violent demise I was about to face. It was at that moment that I felt a fear morph into a rage. I went totally sideways as I berated these massive and ominous brewers of carnage with admittedly idle threats and keen observational remarks pertaining to their intelligence which they did not take a shine to. The anger in their eyes became more noticeable as my courage supply was hovering at a low altitude but I continued to stir up a stink, driven by some lunatic force that will someday put me in the ground I'm sure of it. A blur of action followed as I was charged at by this menacing monstrosity and was preparing to go down in a blaze of misery when I realized I was being dragged by my neck towards the back exit of the facility.
"What the fuck is going on?" I asked, very confused at my current state of continued existence. That's when I heard that all too familiar voice. Just as I had heard it last week and the week before that.
"Shut the fuck up, and get the fuck out!" It was Boulder ejecting little old Dave the dangerous, homicidal aspiring writer and letting those maggots inside continue to further the decay of society.
Boulder throws me hard on the pavement outside and laughs in a very condescending way that makes me wish I had a gun in my pocket so I could blow this dick-danglin' douche bags corrupted brains all over the wall behind him. Unfortunately, this is not the case and I'm left to swallow my pride, letting Boulder go on living his despicable life in a way he fashioned all on his own. The enthralling experience that was the earlier portion of this night had been positioned under a cascade of human feces. I had let my guard down and this place bent me over, made a painful insertion and let me have it like never before. Scarlett was a diversion, a chance for the hellishly degenerate nature of this place to sink its teeth into me and rip me to pieces like a pack of crack crazed wolves in a feeding frenzy.
Oh yes, you got me once again, I thought. I now know the power of this conscious aura that finds its sustenance in the suffering of its patrons. Evil intent disguised as endless possibilities and memorable times. The poor saps inside, still buying into the fallacy that they are indeed having great fun and shall return again next week. That's how it gets you. Miserable cocksuckers if only you knew!
Deceived and despaired, a broken man with nothing left to do but try and concoct another strategy to defeat the machine, I set my sights homeward. Lesson learned, and mistakes understood I vow to never lose sight of the filth and rotten mayhem that inhabits this region again. No one man has the power to brake the wheels of corruption and destruction and the perverse trickery that this evil energy displays will always have the advantage. Good will never triumph over evil because the temptation of evil will always have its sickening way with the minds of the weak.

By: Dave Dengis