IRREPLACEABLE.

I GOT A BITCH TO NIGHT

MASERATI's POV

"I'm drunk again,"I soliloquize rather loudly, then I chuckle.

I'm I even serious?I'm always drunk. I take it that beer likes me.
You see,some people say that I like beer too much but they don't know.
We like each other. What is there to be liked anyway?
I have no girl I can call my own. Well..I don't exactly mean that I hate girls and their kind.

NO.

I like girls, in fact they are all colourful, but they don't have that tendency to like me .They only show pleasure and cooperation when I got pennies.

Lately, I have been so broke and therefore no girls.

Easy.

I stumble on and reaches at the garage. I can see yellow light through the chinks of an old, iron car we use as house.
If it was daytime, you could see how the blue paint on it has faded and washed away leaving patches that have corroded over time making small holes.

"Maich , "I call.

Certainly he is not asleep. I can figure him under the sheets staring at the phone screen commenting and double tapping. Its what he does like all the nights.

I don't know why he's taking too long to answer. Maybe he is already asleep and he is one with issues in waking up. He just snore the whole night and there's no one time he's got a nightmare. Ironically, I rise before him everyday despite the fact that he sleep hours before I lay my body in bed. This is why you can hear him calling me some names like 'breakfast guy' because I make breakfast everyday, or some 'early bird' shit.

At last he opens the metallic door. He's in a floral short and some checked vest.

"Hey,"he greets me.
"Come here,"I spread my arms wide so I can hug him and this I do. I don't see myself doing this when I'm sober. Alcohol can make me, you know 'touchy'.

"See,"I hold the sealed bottle of beer in his face to let him see it. Its among the brands he likes.

"Let's cerebrate tonight," I tell him and he should be jumping up and down and hugging me for a sixth time now. You see, he likes when I bring beer and we can get drunk, the only time that I tell him endless stories from the old folktales, fairy tales, legends to the very modern SciFi . Stories that I myself have created over time and I have a thought to publish them some day. He likes my stories and he honestly say that.

What is confusing me is when I see him anxious instead of being, you know enthusiastic .

He looks inside the house behind him and then he lay his green eyes on my face.

'Don't look at me like that. You think I can handle your stare. Your eyes are so intriguing and I've always told you that' I think.

I pull my brows together and I ask him what is bothering him.

"I got a bitch tonight,"he whispers.

"Huh? already?"I chuckle as I tap his shoulders severally. He has moved on so quickly. Just the other day I spent the whole night in a tavern just to excuse him and his girlfriend and when I came back in the morning, I found her crying outside the car house structure. I had learnt later that they had broken up. And he's here in my face telling me he has a bitch two days later.

"Is she Angie?"I'm a bit curious that maybe they are together once more.

"No it's another girl....ah..she's beautiful I'll show you a picture ,"he promises.

"A random girl," I know this fellow a great deal. He's frankly a lecher.

I open the bottle of beer and he takes a few sips then he hands it back to me.

I wish him a good night of satisfaction before I waddle off.

I know what to do.
It's what I always do when he bring a random girl and like the children of Israel ,I'm sent to exile.

Someday, of course when I get enough cash, I'll send him to exile too and he'll experience what it looks like.

Not too bad though,because you can find yourself spending your night in the car of your dream.

But you have to rise up early the next morning before the owner returns.
Because he can shout names at you when you are caught snoring in the boot like a sleeping corn stuffed pig.

I pass a few cars at the garage trying to figure out which.
I'm allured by a jet black Mercedes Benz. I guess its the latest.

It's the end of the patrol!

I open the boot and lay my lazy body there cautious not to spill my beer. My precious beer.
I can be a great slob when drunk !

"But this is still too much for me,"I snap as I shake the bottle in the dark estimating the amount of beer left.

For if I must sleep,I must empty the bottle because I'm Maserati and all I ever do is getting beyond what I hear them call tipsy.

I chuckle as I pull the door over me because this night gonna be lovely. I'll be sailing in the fantastic feeling of drunkenness feeling like the world is spinning .

AUTHOR.

Hey, you can always comment and like.

What about your favorite number.
Mine is seven,because I had my first kiss at the age of seven....lol.