In The Blood

Etcetera'ed

(Luke)

 "Yeah, man, make it a double," I told the bartender, eyeing the shot he was adding to my drink. I felt my hips start to sway, but planted my feet firmly in place, refusing to give in to the drink, refusing to show how drunk I actually was. If he knew, he'd surely stop serving me. And I didn't want that to happen. I figured as long as I wasn't driving or getting in fights, ain't nothing wrong with being drunk on New Year's Eve. I already knew I was leaving the bar via Lyft, so getting home wouldn't be a problem, and the one dude that tried to get in my face earlier got frustrated when I just walked away. He wasn't worth it. He was drunk too. And the only woman I'd touched was my own on-again, off-again girl. I hadn't even talked to his girl. I had just pointed to the woman he accused me of touching, who was rubbing her ass up and down my friend's leg, and the dude stomped off after her. Not my circus, not my monkeys.

I took my drink and tried to find Serena. Where the hell she get off to? I moved to the other side of the bar where some karaoke was going on. Two women. One who sounded like she could sing maybe if she wasn't drunk and the other one just sounded like a dying cat. Actually, the dying cat might be preferable. Least it wouldn't be drunk.

I found my friend Drew and touched his arm, making him stumble. "Hey, man, you see Serena?"

He looked a the through dazed, dilated, and drunk brown eyes. "Yeah, Luke, she been looking for you."

"Well, I'm right here." I took a sloppy drink. "Where she at?"

"Dunno. Round here somewhere."

That's so helpful. I moved my foot forward to keep looking for her but stumbled. Drew only just saved my drink.

"Thanks," I mumbled, taking it back.

"How you getting home?" he asked, watching me struggle to remain upright.

"Lyft," I snorted. "I ain't shtupid."

"You gonna be passed out drunk in the backseat," Drew predicted, laughing at me.

Replanting my right foot, I retorted, "Better than trying to drive a car home. Or getting in fights. What happened to the girl rubbing her junk up your leg?"

He laughed. "Nothing. Her boyfriend stomped over here, yelled at her a minute, and they both went, ahh..." He looked around before pointing to the left side of the bar where the neon lights just kept flashing irritatingly. "...that-a-way."

I winced when the next drunk karaoke group stepped onstage and started a Katy Perry song. Those three sounded like banshees. The dying cat girl was better.

"The drunker people are, the worse they sound," I commented, making him snicker.

"Yeah, but the drunker and worse they sound, the funnier it is," Drew countered.

" 'Cuz you'd have to be drunk to karaoke at a bar," I said, watching a cute girl shake her booty in the corner.

"Which is why it's here," Drew laughed. "So drunk people can entertain everyone!" He guzzled the last little bit of beer down and signaled to the bartender. "You gonna do it?"

"Nah," I declined, slurping on my drink. I can sing, just don't do it much. Especially not when drunk. I prefer to be behind the scenes.

"They need someone who can carry a tune up there," he pointed out.

"Not gonna be me," I assured him, turning my head when Serena obnoxiously called my name from across the bar.

"LuuuUUUuuuke!" she yelled, waving her arms frantically at me as though I were 150 feet away from her rather than fifty.