I went outside

I'm at the bar tonight, luckily I have my notebook in my bag. Tiffany, the bartender, loaned me this pen- it's one of those fat, heavy twist on/ off pens that important shit is signed with
I'm out back, on the bench where employees [/me] go to smoke. I'm looking at a concrete flower pot filled to the brim with a tossed salad of cigarette butts and a light dressing of ash. It smells like shit.
It's pretty quiet out- the faint sound of traffic is the mud on my auditory canvas, and it's accented with the kick drum and hum of the bass notes from the band inside.

The band is okay- it's the standard four piece blues band:
    The drummer is a tall, skinny white guy, is is sweating profusely, maybe partly because of the red spotlight that was right on him. Or it may be all the PBRs he's been drinking the whole night.
     This bass player- short, stocky, with really thick short hair and sideburns is playing an upright with cracks all up and down the sides of the finish. he's really hunched over.
     he guitar player is playing this hollow body electric, it sounds so sweet.and he's a sick player. He's got a glass medicine bottle on his ring finger, and really fucking knows how to use it.
    The singer- Sky G- is playing on an acoustic with nylon strings, but they're heavily distorted. He's got a phenomenal voice.

I really should be writing about being outside.

Shit.

Twice, the bus boys have taken out the trash and the back door opened, and the muffled sound of the band got really clear and loud. it's nice.
This girl, Allegrae, came outside just now- she was looking for me. Apparently I didn't tell anyone where I was going, so lots of people were looking for me . She brought me my phone, that I left inside, and it was full of texts asking me where I was. It made me feel a little bad.

But Allegrae-(I just paused to smoke a cigarette with her) I'm going home with her tonight. I've hooked up with her before. I met her at a bar- Uncle Dave's - where I host open mic. Maybe it was only because we both have Kurt Vonnegut tattoos.

Side note: in transferring this from paper to the computer, I'm realizing how drunk I was. I am typing it as it was written, and I'm noticing a hell of a lot of hyphens where they may not belong.


Rumor has it that I was her first time- so her friends say, but no virgin fucks like that.
She's really cool, she reads the same books as me and she's a How I met your mother fan.
She's really hot too- she's blonde, which I try to stay away from, but she has a great body. She's pretty thin and about 5'6". Totally my type. She wears horn-rimmed glasses like Tina fucking Fey, and wears these really short shorts and tube socks that go up past her knees.
Very hot.

I just got a text saying that my ex-girlfriend Taylor found out that I'm here and came.
Fuck.

She's such a buzzkill, and she hates Allegrae- probably only because I like her.

But there's plenty more booze to fix that first part.

Time to go back in and let it be known to Taylor that I'm not interested in her company tonight.

Later,

Davey Jones.