My First and Last

Drunk in Love

It's already two in the morning. And instead of sleeping in a cozy bedroom where anyone is supposed to be, I'm still on my way home. Being an auditor sure is tough. But it is also the coolest job for me. Being able to go to places and meet new different people is awesome.

I hope I'll be able to get home before I pass out on the street due to extreme sleepiness. It's cold at this time of the day, good thing I got my jacket with me. But my pencil skirt is not helping me shake the cold out of my body.

It does not surprise me to still see teenagers going in and out of clubs. Clubs aren't my thing. I just don't see the joy that defeaning music, blinding lights, cigarette smoke, being drunk and teenagers jumping on the dancefloor with their perspiration sticking on each other bring. Besides, dressing properly sure requires a lot of effort. And another, dressing up is not my thing, except during work. I'm already twenty-three and never got into any clubs. But it sure is nice to be able to go to one to trim down my exaggerated notion of clubs. Though my friends are into it, I always turned them down whenever I got invited. Still, they keep on insisting hoping that one day I'll give in. I am more of a daytime person. Trying new restaurants kind of thing. I continued walking and walk past the club. Now, to see this is new.

At the intersection between Reyes and Valenzuela road, I saw a guy seated at the curb. Drunk. It's as if he thinks that drinking will let all his sufferings disappear. I may not see his face but the pain sure is tangible. The street is deserted. At this hour and at that intersecrion can I only ride a taxi home. Where clubs are, taxis are waiting. I came closer to him. I can now hear him. Sobbing. His forehead is resting on his arm that holds a half-emptied bottle.

"You okay?" I got nothing. I didn't sit beside him and prefer to stand making my voice louder for him to hear me above the echoing music at the disco club. "Um," I continued bending down a little at him, "you know it's really not a good idea to get drunk especially when you're alone," I looked around then continued, "in this kind of place. I mean, anything could happen. You could get raped." That was supposed to be a joke but he just sit there so still though the sobbing was no longer audible. I place my hair behind my ear that fell down when I bent and stood straight. I then decided to hail a taxi. I signaled the driver through the windshield to help me carry the man into the car.

"You guys broke up?" the driver asked me while he put the guy's left arm around his shoulder then hauling him up. "Well," I paused and open the passenger seat door. My time to think of an alibi. I turned to them, "my friend was the one who got him to this state. Poor thing, huh?" I lied. But, hey. Lying wouldn't hurt. Not in this situation. What will he think of me when he finds out that we're not related? After we put him into the taxi, I followed. I sat beside him in case he bumps his head on the window. I think that would be nice. He'll have some sense and remember that there's nothing good on being drunk.

"Where to?" the driver asked looking at me through the mirror. "Where he stays. Garden Luciana Hotel." Damn, I'm so good at lying. I just can't let him sleep at my apartment. No way. What if this guy just killed someone and regreted the whole thing so he rather die on the sidewalk than spend the rest of his life in jail? What if I'll be the next victim? I shook my head to get rid of the morbid thought. I got this attitude of catastrophic thinking. But, it's better than thinking way too positive. I'm just being realistic. I guessed, defending myself.

He's in the middle part of the seat facing the right view. While I am looking at the other side lost in my own thought. I remember the clubs; how my life had been. You can say that my life is simple. Having friends, get to do the job I've dreamnt of, being able to help my family. Just being independent and get to do things that could make me happy. But, why? There's still something that is missing. I sighed at the thought.