Im Not Alone :: Personal Narrative Writing

Im Not Alone The path to solitude at Charlies Corner Bar. along the way, I pass the party store where Ill find the beer and cigarettes Ive been instructed to purchase. It can wait. As I approach the bar, blaring neon beer slogans light up the darken windows. A couple leaves the bar, and through the open door seeps the sound of laugh meant to impress.As I walk into the bar I see the jape stems from the mass of hairy chests, tight dresses and bleached hair surrounding the nickelodeon in the corner. I make my way to a seat at the end of the bar and raise my hand slightly to get Charlies attention.Whatll it be tonight?I lay my money down, Ah, the usual Charlie -- double Vodka on the rocks (harder to trace on the breath). Taking a sip, I briefly run out for an interesting life among a path scattered with rhinestone diamond earrings, quaffed tanned curls over Mayboline eyes, and fermented grain vapors pushed past lipstick and chapstick. I prepare an almost psychotic habit of staring at strangers and wondering if they could be anything corresponding me. Occasionally, I spot what I think could be a kindred spirit and find some comfort in the event Im not alone.I skim over the tight dresses in the corner, vigour like me, and catch sight of an interesting specimen, partially hidden by shadows, sitting adjacent to the pool table in the back of the room -- Huh, hes new. Theres an obviously intoxicated man playing pool, and while aiming for a dark ball on the table, a swift and drunken move of his motivate stick causes his beer, sitting on the table behind him, to fall in to the lap of the stranger. The debouchered fool attempts an apology as the man slowly rises from his seat. Looks like the beginnings of a brawl, I tell Charlie, pointing towards the table. Huh, brawl. I always treasured to translate that at a bar, and I never actually wanted to witness one. The stranger blots himself dry with the towel Charlie has brought to him, and he turns to the drunk in an effort to accept the apology. Other than minor frustration, the man seems unaffected by the act. I wonder if his dry-cleaning bill will be received with the kindred response.His composure intrigues me. Most of the men Ive known would have pounded the drunk for his carelessness, but the expensive suit he adorns is my first clue that this guy is decidedly not like most men Ive known.