Go Home and Drink By Yourself Like You Should Anyway

Ah, yes –

Such perfect legs. She’s awkward and laughing – her coworker says he’s never seen her so far from her shell. Three shots of fireball (padding my bill) and they Irish goodbye and the bartender sighs and says happy hour wasn’t a great deal tonight but he’s texting his girlfriend to bring him home food and the cigarette crowd’s already paired off in twos; it’s no use –

I wish I was another day of the week.

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~ by perfectionatrix on December 29, 2015.

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