Ol’ Saint Drunk

It’s that time of the year where people start wrapping gifts and spending time with loved ones and family. Massive dinners and large amounts of food will be consumed, feelings and emotions being shared with one another, and preparations for the upcoming new year will be made.

It’s also that time of the year where crowds of idiots go bar hopping from sun up until the black of night all dressed up as cheap dollar-store knockoffs of Santa. Half-empty cans of stale beer littered the floor, trails of vomit went lead from one bar to the next, and dozens of people would blackout from going upside-down on a keg.

Yep. It’s totally the winter holiday season when you see two women passed out on the curb when you’re headed to an early Christmas party.

I knew coming  out tonight was going to be a bad idea. I should really trust my gut a lot more.


“It’s time to get on Santa’s naughty list!”

Every single person around me exploded into cheering, and I was stuck right in the epicenter of the blast. Drunks on my left, alcoholics on my right, and those trying to get their buzz started were behind me. The only safe place was directly in front of me, behind the bar counter, and even then it was still within the blast radius. Through the cheers glassware shattered from heavy-handed clinks, bottles splashed their contents all over the bar floor, and a few fists went flying into peoples’ faces.

From my seat alone at least two people dropped their drinks, spilling them and staining the bar countertop. I grabbed a few large napkins from the dispenser and tried to wipe up as much as I could. Behind me another glass broke, this time its contents slashing all along the back of my shirt—the smell of vodka always stunk to me.

I held in a deep breath to calm myself down when a cold shiver hit my spine, “Stay calm, Luka. Don’t lose your shit. You don’t need that kind of stress right now.” I slowly let the air out and felt my body cooling down. I took a big chug from my beer bottle to help keep the feeling lasting longer.

I knew coming out was a bad idea.

The cheering eventually came to an end, being replaced with loud chatter and even louder music. Aside from the fact that everybody was dressed up as terribly-made clones of Santa Claus, it felt like a usual busy Saturday night. Everybody, for the most part, were enjoying themselves and their company. I glanced over to my left and saw a regular I normally see on the weekends. With his bright red hat on, he turned and noticed me. We greeted and did our own cheer.

The low lighting of the bar hid the red blush marks on his face as he spoke, “How you doin’, tonight? Went bar hopping today?”

I shook my head, “Nah. Had to work, sadly. I wish I could have.” At least the work part was true.

He laughed, “Man, that sucks. Should have called out to go hopping with us.”

“‘Us?’”

He leaned back to show a woman next to him. Gently rocking in her seat, she accidentally jabbed herself in the nose with a straw as she tried to sip her drink. She noticed me looking and have a quick wave.

I waved back, acting like I didn’t see her make a fool of herself. Goddamn, she’s fucking hammered.

“This your girl?” I asked.

“No,” he replied, “A friend of my girl’s. My girl couldn’t make it, so she filled in on her behalf.”

I took a moment to piece together the logic behind drinking and having another woman around, but I quickly gave up on the thought. I simply shrugged and said, “Alright.”

Right before he could keep the conversation going, the woman reached around and made him face her. In the heat of the crowd, the two of them went into a long kissing session, grabbing each other’s face and turning from side to side multiple times. All I could do was watch in complete shock at the moment. However, seeing this for myself put a sly smirk on my face.

I got dirt on you, you filthy fuck.

I let out a quick chuckle right as their make out session ended. He took a moment to regain his composure before turning back to talk to me. “Sorry about that. She’s been all over me today.”

I laughed and took another sip of my beer, “Oh, I can tell.”

Him and I chatted for another moment before the woman grabbed him again, this time taking him onto the dance floor. I didn’t bother watching them; I already saw all that I needed.

I couldn’t help but laugh at how the hectic night of drunks have went. And on top of that, seeing another bar regular here with a mystery woman was comedy gold. Giving into the jolly spirit, I chugged the rest of my beer and ordered another.

“SantaCon isn’t too bad,” I said aloud.

Right as I said that, I heard the sound of violent vomiting going on right behind me. My new beer was placed in front of me, including an added bonus of a small glass of whiskey.

The jolly spirit in me died right away. “Never mind.”


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Copyright © 2019 by Luka Tatsujo

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