What had been in that drink?
His vision was still blurry. A pain rolled through the side of his head like a rock down the face of a cliff. He was coherent enough, only just, to realize he was behind the wheel of a car. He wasn't even sure it was his. The headlamps of opposing traffic blinded him; their horns deafening. He shook his head wildly, realized he needed to pull over. He barely remembered to press the brake as he pulled the wheel slightly to the side. Once he was sure he had come to a stop, he fought with the gear shift until the car was in park. Disparately he felt for the door lever and pulled. The cool, soothing air of late night (or was it early morning?) rushed in to meet him. He inhaled deeply and felt the heavy fog of his mind begin to clear. Out of the car he doubled over, retching. Bile and booze sprang out until he was left feeling hollow and empty. Spittle dripped from his chin as he righted himself and swiped at it with the back of his hand.
There was no reason he should feel like this. He had only consumed two drinks. The weekend prior he had slammed back at least half a dozen along with a few shots and had become only mildly smashed. As consciousness fought its way to the foreground he tried to think back. What had been different about tonight? What had led to this sudden sickness?
***
Kip had rang and invited him out. He'd even offered to buy rounds. Rob hadn't wanted to go, not really. He was too busy feeling sorry for himself after such a shitty breakup. Something was comforting about the solitude of his misery. Still, Kip didn't often go out, so an invite from him was hard to come by. His internal battle had lasted far longer than it should have. Time with his best mate was in order. Finally he had answered that he would meet Kip around seven at the Lazy Dog.
He showered for the first time in three days, shaved his face, and threw product in his unruly ginger hair. As an afterthought he splashed his face and shirt with aftershave for good measure. Arriving at the Lazy Dog several minutes later, he saw only the usual crowd. Kip was already by the door waiting.
"Bout time you showed your ugly face," Kip called out.
They smiled at each other before customarily flashing their id's to the doorman and heading inside. Their usual table in the corner occupied, they settled for stools at the bar. To an outsider it would be pathetic. Seating for roughly a hundred, yet there were twenty of them maximum. For the Lazy Dog, that was busy. The barkeep came with their usual drinks already in hand. He smiled, made his non-committal greeting before collecting a tip from Kip, then turned to wait on other patrons.
"What's the occasion?" he asked Kip, trying to infuse his words with enthusiasm he didn't feel.
"Forgot already did you, Rob?"
He tried to avoid eye contact, but Kip knew him well enough.
"Its alright. Haven't been yourself lately. We're celebrating your freedom and my pending doom."
"You're pending... You never said. That I wouldn't forget. Getting an old ball-and-chain then?" he asked, a genuine smile coming to his face.
"Long as I don't screw it up."
"Think of me as a what-not-to-do and I'm sure you'll be fine. Where's the other half then?"
"Home. Has to work tomorrow and didn't want out too late."
The rest of the conversation consisted of questions and answers about the upcoming nuptials. His mood was elevated by Kip's own. He would be planning the Stag Night celebrations. Kip's other half called and he made a lame excuse to get home, a wicked smile etched into his face. He left money enough for another drink and a tip to the barkeep. A quick clap to the back, and he was gone. With him went the festive mood.
