Screwed blued and tattooed.
i got a new tattoo on friday, friday the 13th of febuary. all i got was a simple 13. about an inch tall, red and black. took all of 30mins to get. i also had one touched up. i got the new tattto on my left arm right above an old one i got on the last friday the 13th. i was hoping to get more, but it took along time before i could get my turn and when i did, i was feeling the effects of 9 days of work and decidied to just get the one, to mark the day. a long time ago i decided that i would get full sleaves, but i was not going to get them all at once. i would get them as time and money allowed. i also made the decision that i would not get tattoos willy nilly with no ryhme or reason. the tattoos i would get on my left arm would be ones of places i've been, things i have done and how i see the world. the ones on my right arm would be how i perceive the world sees me or how i want the world to see me. so far so good. but if you've ever seen my tatoos and you know me, well you know that i'm still heading in the right direction and not too far from my mark. so anyway i got another 13 friday.
saturday i had a date with queenie. but she didn't get off work till late. and it turned out to be not much different than any other saturday night out. i stood at the bar doing shots and drinking beer, while she paraded around in her new party dress.
saturday night was supposed to be a one last stand, a remember the alamo night. instead she drove me home, like always, and we sat up till god knows when talking. but given that there was a time we would stay up all night talking it fits right in with our realtionship.
sunday i got called into work at noon. a shot of jager and a hot cup of coffee and i was able to stop my head from pounding enough that i could count money. after 7 hours of doing shots with the rest of the west 7th crew, all trying to get rid of their hangovers and forget the money they spent on their girls, i was no longer tring to get rid of my hangover but trying to function as a bartender. the combination of alchohol, exhastion and depression was too much for my brain to handle and when a girl asked if i wanted to go to a dance club with her and her friends i said yes. so off to vivid. i don't have much memory of the night. i drank, i danced, i did more shots. then i thought i was lost, then i was found. next thing i know i'm in a truck heading home. home being the bar. i got back, paid my tab and went to sleep in the sound booth. next thing i know i was called out of sluber into another truck and there i was, standing on my front porch, fumbling with my keys to get in the door.
monday i made spaghetti, cookies and ate ice cream.