diablos

Casey and Leslie just left for home and I got a ring on the phone. It said “private” on the line. I ignore those. But when I got a voice mail I checked it. It was a girl who said that she was a Diablo’s and for me to come down and hang out with her and monica. Who in the hell is Monica? And who was this who left a message on my phone? I know it wasn’t a wrong number because they said “hi eddie”. Plus my number is still on the books at Divas and I told everyone to give me a call sometime. But I thought that perhaps it was a particular girl who was calling me, one whom isn’t looking for love and I am okay with that. So I took a shower and got dressed and went.

The closer I got the more a feeling of dread overcame me. By the time I got there I was not very happy. Not miserable, but not happy either. I grabbed a guinness beer and went around looking at people to see if I recognized anyone. Nobody. So I sat down at a bench near the front door. Too damn close really for people had no qualms about standing right in front of me, practically on my feet. My head was at ass level. So when I tapped one guy on the side and he looked at me as though I were bothering him, I told him he was giving me a wonderful view of his ass. That got him to move. I wasn’t in a fighting mood anyway or I’d been different toward him. Instead I had this great… hollow feeling inside of me. The music of the band didn’t help either. Sort of a cross between new wave, grunge, alternative, depressed, gay punk. That’s what popped into my mind. But it was great if one was depressed. I wasn’t depressed was I? No, it didn’t feel that way. But there was definitely something wrong. I fought the urge to leave. To leave was only to run away, I knew that. I didn’t want to run from whatever it was bothering me. So I stayed and drank my beer, sat on the bench near the front door with people walking to and fro before me.

I took my empty bottle to the bar (easier clean up for bartender) and stood for a while listening to the band. There were some attractive women in the place and a couple were at the bar. I tried to block out the feeling that was eating away at me. I had no confidence to go talk to any of the women. No, that wasn’t it… it wasn’t a confidence thing… but really… deep down I felt indifferent. I stood there, listening to the music, trying to gain some sort of composure over the inner void… and I caught a glance of myself in the mirror. My eyes spoke of a great tiredness, my face had no energy to it, no smile, no warmth. The face looking back at me looked dead. I left for the door.

I can still feel the stare of that feeling, it is hiding in the dark corners of my room, watching me. My eyes are heavy and desire sleep… yes… unconscious sleep.

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