Bar Room Debauchery

"Hi I'm Alex"

"Hi Alex, that's my boyfriend"

A quick gesture to a shadow in the crowd, as if having a simple conversation wasn't allowed. 

She was a friend of a friend of a friend that shoved me overboard into unwanted conversation.  The definition of type cast and if I had my choice she'd be last. You know, that pretty face tainted by ego.  But as the saying will go, you reap what you sow. 

At it's simplest, the night reminded me of time wasted on wasted people.

I just couldn't bring myself to talk. Even at the thought of conversation I'd balk. 

I have no chips to gain. No relationships to hedge.

In fact now, this shit just puts me on edge. 

-Alexander Williard-