Don't Forget to Write

Back Where We Started

Bruno looked at his phone and said, "It's hardly past midnight, wanna go to Bob's?"

There were figures in the dark, waiting to conduct business or smoking their cigarettes. They never used to bother me, they were just people living their lives, but now I couldn't stop thinking about the robbery that happened at Abe's. I was afraid that one of these figures would jump out with a gun in hand. I told myself I was being dumb, and the misfortune of witnessing one person doing one terrible thing didn't mean bad things would continue to happen. I took a long swig of whiskey from the flask, which Bruno had refilled at the girls' apartment.

We stumbled into the pub where our barhopping had begun. Bruno spotted Moose at the end of the bar, so we swayed over and plopped onto the barstools next to him. He greeted us with an order of shots and beers. "For my pupil's birthday," he said.

"Hi Bruno, come to join Moose?"

That voice is familiar... I looked up and realized she was the skinny brown-haired girl I had held the door open for earlier.

"Someone has to keep this drunk bastard company," he said slapping Mustafa's back.

She turned to me, "Hey you, not struggling to stay awake now, are you?"

In my head a voice exclaimed like an alarm espresso bean girl! Espresso bean girl! In real life, I said, "not tonight, though I must admit it's been hard to sit through Mr. Smith's class without your espresso beans. Where have you been?" I hadn't seen her after the first lecture.

"I had to drop that class unfortunately, it didn't work with my schedule."

"You aren't missing much.

She shrugged, "You're snoring would have distracted me too much anyway," she said with a wink. Then she pushed the drinks to us and said "Yours is on me, happy birthday Peter," and walked away to help her other customers. She knew my name, and I only knew her as espresso bean girl.

"So, you know Karen?" Moose asked.

Karen. "I had a class with her in the beginning of the year."

"Small world. She's my favorite bartender, except for Bob of course. She's a sweet girl. Anyway," Moose lifted his glass, "cheers to another year, and to a speedy recovery." We all took down our shots and got into talking about soccer. After a couple (or a lot) more drinks, the slight sobriety I was beginning to feel when I left Camila's (what Bruno called a 'dry spot') was completely gone. The features of the bar and of the faces around me were blurry again. Sound came to my ears as if it had to travel through a long tunnel first. The buzz of alcohol embraced me like an old friend. I walked to the bathroom, the tiles were spinning and the urinal was swaying. When I came back there was a shot waiting for me. "Last one Petey boy, it's closing time."

Bruno put an arm around my shoulder and we leaned on each other as we walked out of the bar. Karen was laughing as she waved us goodbye. Me and Bruno gave her a synchronized salute, which made her laugh a little harder. She had a wholesome and pretty laugh, the kind that made me smile.

Once outside, the sobering fresh air on my face stripped away the musky warm coziness of the pub. "Well, I'm going this way gents," Moose said, nodding to the right as he put a cigarette in his mouth. We shook hands and said farewell, he went right and we went straight. The tall church across the street looked gloomy in the late night. The steeple loomed high in the sky, looking down at the pub as if it were a tower from which God was watching, taking note of all us sinners on our way in and out.

We trotted down the few blocks to the stairway park on 145th street. The homeless Denzel was lying there with a brown bag in hand. He must have had almost as drunken of a night as us. We stomped slowly up the six flights of stairs and slid into apartment 21. "Goodnight Peter,"

"Night Bruno, thanks for taking me out tonight."

He waved his hand and said, "don't worry about it, welcome to the fun part of adulthood. It doesn't last long, though. The fun, I mean."

I laid on my bed. When I closed my eyes it felt like I was on a raft that was swirling around a typhoon. I jumped out of bed, ran into the bathroom, and puked for a while. Then I brushed my teeth and went back to bed, the spinning had turned into a gentle swell, and I let the waves rock me to sleep.