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It's All Real

Once I start, I can't stop.

I chase the high that comes with filling my system with sweet, delectable poison, may it come in the form of Captain Morgan or Jim Beam. That feeling of weightless abandon, the relinquishing of control... It's an addiction, and one I'm fully aware of.

That's why when my roommate asked if I wanted to hit up Johnson's Pub that seemingly normal Tuesday night, I should have said no.

But I didn't.

We left a quarter after nine, dressed in skinny jeans and low-cut tops. My roommate wanted to find a hookup for the night, but I just wanted to drink. Maybe I'd play my usual game of seeing how many drinks I could get bought for me. Either way, I wouldn't be leaving with anyone. I chose to limit my unhealthy coping mechanisms to one.

The pub was about a fifteen minute walk from our apartment, but we stopped on our way to meet another friend, and didn't reach the bar until about nine forty-five.

The place was packed already, a result of the football game airing that night. It had gone into overtime, and the energy was high. My roommate recognized a few guys she'd flirted with before and went over to join their group with our other friend, while I found a seat at the end of the bar.

It took a moment, but soon enough, a sandy-haired bartender stopped in front of me. He was shaking someone else's drink, but he smiled like his focus was all on me.

"Can I get you anything started?" he asked, flashing his pearly whites, and I grinned back.

"Surprise me," I told him. He raised an eyebrow, and then he was off, serving the drink he was shaking before and starting in on mine. I boredly watched the game while I waited, but forgot all about it when a drink was set in front of me.

"Surprise," the bartender announced with a wink. "If you can guess what it is without tasting it, that one's on me."

Challenge accepted... I lifted my glass while he watched me and took a sniff of the concoction.

"Long Island?" I guessed, and he snapped his fingers in disappointment.

"You're too good," he chuckled. "But, I'll hold true to my end of the deal."

"You better," I quipped with a flirtatious glance in his direction, but I was no longer interested in the handsome bartender, and only in what he had brought me. I sipped my first drink for a while, relishing in the comforting burn it sent warming my throat, before I ordered a shot. I needed something to help dampen the noise of the bar.

The top-shelf tequila went down with ease, and it wasn't long before two more shots joined it. I was starting to feel my muscles relaxing and the tension leaving my body, along with my inhibitions, and ordered one more Long Island Iced Tea before I went to check on my roommate.

She was sitting in a party booth with six guys and two more girls, and cheered when she saw me.

"Hey, drunkie," she greeted from the lap of some unfamiliar boy.

"Hey, skank," I replied, and she giggled.

"You're always so fun to hang out with." She turned to the boy next to the one she was sitting on. "I promise, she really is fun. She just needs another drink or two."

"Alright, that's enough" I warned, but I couldn't quite hide my smile. I was starting to feel my buzz creeping in, and it was heightening my spirits.

"So who's gonna buy my girl a drink?" my roommate called over the table. I blushed a little but didn't object when one of the men not already taken beckoned me over.