gone shootin

i stood by myself, leaning against the wall at an empty table set for two. the chairs were gone; a group at the back had taken them to fill out a loose circle. i knew some of the people opposite me, collected inside the fogged up alcove.

most of them were from the hair salon; it was a cutter named jessicat's birthday. i was pretty high when i got there; i'd already been there for a few earlier in the night. some others i sorta knew from around.

it was a good busy; you could move around, but there were no free chairs.

the girl in the ponytail was still there. a big guy was leaning over her, tipping his flat pint over his gut. she'd turn her head and get a glance of me. it seemed like i wobbled each time.

the dj was not impressing me. saturday night in toronto you can't get away with bullshit nineties radio rock. i wanted to kill him, but instead i went outside and got more stoned.