Boots

Three

"Is this dick gluten free?"
-Allen Jones, at some point.

"Can you tell me why you left your last job?"
Ah, the question he had been dreading, but prepared for.
"I didn't like being so far away from home. The city was too noisy."
And lonely.
So lonely.
"You said you're staying about an hour away from here?"
"Yes, but I plan on moving closer. This won't effect you in any way."
"What are you hoping to get out of this job?"
"Honestly, I just want something stable and relatively quiet."
"What kind of pay do you expect?"
"Ten to fifteen thousand a year..."
"Alright...I think that's all the time we have. We will get back to you if you get in. Do you have any questions?"
"Yeah, actually, do you communicate within the company primarily through email or phone?"
"Email."
"Great. Thank you for your time."
"Good bye."
This was his fourth interview this week. So far he felt like all of them had gone well, but he hadn't gotten calls back yet.
He knew that just because he did good, didn't mean he would get the job. He could have done the an excellent interview, but not if there was somebody better.
He needed to take a break from all this if he wanted to stay sane.
Tonight would be a drinking night.
When was the last time he did this? He didn't think he had drank alcohol since his "birthday party" which just consisted of him drinking beer and watching Netflix while digging into an ice cream cake he bought for himself. He hadn't actually gone to a club since he was nineteen.
The scene seemed different from what he remembered, all flashy lights. There were a lot of people around so he went to the bar to drink alone.
"Hey there, cutie," he heard from beside him. He rolled his eyes, ready to chew this loser out but when he turned his head he was met with the most captivating blood red eyes. His train of thought had derailed and shot straight through an orphanage, killing dozens of parentless children.
"I...I'm..."
"Is this your first time at this place?"
"Yeah..."
"You've got to order the nachos, then. They're amazing!"
"You...you came here to tell me aboot the nachos?"
"Ja. My friend makes them. I'm trying to stir up business."
"That's actually very nice of you...maybe I will order nachos."
"Also I'm trying to chase ass."
"There it is." Matthew sighed, taking a sip of the beer in front of him.
"My name is Gilbert. I'm moderately famous."
"Oh yeah?" Matthew was skeptical.
"Ja. I'm famous enough that I could take off to the top any day now but not famous enough that I won't go for ordinary people."
"Thanks." Matthew just wanted to drink alone.
"I'm kidding. You're probably really hot outside the shitty lighting in here."
"I don't...I don't do this stuff."
"You're not gay?"
"Did you think I was?"
"Well...ja...this is a gay bar."
"Is it?"
"You didn't know?"
"I don't really...I'm not really...I'm probably not gay."
"Then we can be bros. That's cool too."
"I already have one of those." Matthew finished off his beer and gestured to the bartender for more.
"So...what are you doing in a gay bar alone anyway?"
"Getting a drink."
"That's it? People don't drink alone unless theres something going on in their life."
"I'm sorry...but I don't know you..."
"My name is Gilbert Bielshmidt, I'm from the duchy of Prussia, which is now Germany, I speak English and German and have a little brother named Ludwig who is super serious and way too big for a little brother. I also have a pet canary who I love more than my own mother and my music taste ranges from MoTrip to Lena to Faun."
"I haven't heard of any of those bands."
"I can show you them! Come to my place!"
"Uhm...I see a lot wrong with that."
"Okay, then I can show you at the cafe across the street. It's quiet this time of night and nobody's there but the counter people."
"Please let me get intoxicated in peace."
Gilbert looked so rejected. Matthew started to feel bad.
"Okay...I'll listen to your music if you buy me more drinks."
"Awesome!" His eyes lit up. This was going to be a long night.

"Where do you see yourself in five years?"
Hopefully dead.