Birthday
"I shouldn't be here," I tell myself. Standing outside the bar, garish neon lights blinking slowly in my face, I shiver and almost leave. It's loud inside; people are laughing and a blare of music tries to drown everyone out. I'm standing about fifteen feet away by a dead lamp post. Watching a somewhat steady stream of people in and out, in various states of dress. Various types. Nice, casual, punk, grimy. All kinds. I had just turned 21. I'm going. Fuck my parents. Fuck the Church and fuck...
First Time