I had a miserable time.  Beneath my brain's foamy beer-stained chaos, I managed to tell myself over and over again, "this may suck, but at least you look damn good." (I'd broken out the little black cocktail dress.)

A man with a goofy smile and glassy eyes wrapped an arm around me, rooting me to the place I stood.  He asked me how I was doing--if I was enjoying myself--and I managed a fuzzy, "yeah this is ok I guess i'm not sure if i'll stay for much longer though it's getting kind of crowded and all i really want to do is dance and the music kinda sucks..."

"OHMYGOD I LOVE THAT BAND TOO" he yelled into my ear as he spilled his full cup of beer down my leg.

This is so wonderful.  





Maybe if you were here, I wouldn't be stuck in the middle of a hot room with people breathing down my back, all the while wondering how long I have to stay in order to be polite, and maybe if you were here I wouldn't have to pretend to be having a good time because you could show me the true meaning of one.

Maybe if you were here I wouldn't be so tragic.