He liked this time of the year, where the days were getting longer and the weather was warming up a bit. It was early evening. The happy our crowd were just paying their tabs and going home. The streets were still busy with commuters. The light of the day was slowly fading and, soon, the dinner crowd and the late drinkers would be occupying restaurants and bars.
He walked through the thick leather strips hanging in front of the bar. There was the familiar smell of musk. A couple of patrons sat along the bar sipping their drinks as the alternative music thumped through the speakers. It was a bit dark inside with most of the light coming from the bar. He inhaled deeply.
It was good to be back.
He sauntered up to the bar. The bartender, Jose, looked up and smiled. He walked over to the well.
"Hey, how's it going? I heard you were coming back.," Jose said.
"It's going. You're looking good."
"Thanks! Are you back for good or for a visit?"
"Not sure yet. I just got in the day before yesterday."
"Well, it's good to see you. Your usual?"
"Thanks, Jose!"
Jose poured a scotch neat and placed a bottle of beer next to it.
He paid for his drink and took a breath. When Jose counted out the change, he left a two dollar tip. "Would you know of any part-time jobs available anywhere?" he asked.
"Do you still have your California bartender's license?"
"As a matter of fact, I do."
"We could use some help around here if you're interested."
He thought for a moment. Working in a bar was a great job to have, but he had refrained from going back into another situation. "Thanks, baby! Let me think about it for awhile."
"Okay, just bring me your resume. I'll make sure Carlton gets it."
"You are indeed a very sweet guy."
"I just hope it keeps you here this go round."
He picked up his drinks and settled next to a pinball machine. He deposited a couple of dollars and started to play the game.
Jose was the only bartender he knew at the bar. It used to be his hangout when he lived in San Francisco a few years ago. When he moved back to Seattle, he and Jose kept in contact through social networks and whenever he would fly down for a short visit. Now, he was back. Maybe for good. Nothing turned out the way that he thought they would when he returned to the city he had missed so much. When would he learn that people would always hurt him?
Finally, he thought, he got the lesson that life had been forcing on him since social interaction was thought to be a way to live one's life. He had somehow missed being alone. He had missed having no one in his life. They called him a loner. He never thought of himself as much, but he knew that they were right. He knew that there was no other way to live his life in peace and acceptance. People usually kept their own agendas intact - never bothering to explore a more kinder side.
He drank and played two games of pinball. When he was through with the second game, he gulped the remains of his beer and ordered another round.
There were a few guys standing around towards the back of the bar, chatting with each other or watching the porn on the monitors. He kept walking through the bar until he was in the back. The heavy and thick stench of cigarettes, marajuana and musk was familiar to him. There were a few guys standing and talking as he walked out. More towards the back stood three guys, smoking and talking.
Someone offered him a toke on a joint. After he blew out smoke, he made his way towards the back and sat down on a bench. He took out a cigarette and lit it. The three guys greeted him. Two of the guys wore suits. It was obvious that they had come here directly from work and were on their last cocktails. He didn't pay much attention to their conversation. He had rather stay out of it.
He settled back and relaxed as he smoked and drank. Tomorrow he would wake up and return working on the screenplay he had been paid to write. An independent producer had read his online book about two porn addicts who meet and fall in love and decided to purchase the movie rights. He had gotten an agent who settled the deal. The producer wanted him to write the screenplay. And with what he had made with selling the rights and being paid to write the screenplay came the decision to leave Seattle for good; to re-settle in San Francisco where he could fade into the mix of the city by the bay and recapture a life alone.
The two guys wearing suits finished their drinks and left. The other guy, dressed in a long sleeved t-shirt and a pair of jeans, remained. The guy lit a joint and smoked it, offering him a hit or two. He started to feel the effects from the first joint and hit the one that was offered to him. The guy did not try to make conversation. He was relaxed - enjoying being stoned. The guy had started to rub his crotch, helping an already noticable bulge get larger. Harder.
He watched when the guy took his dick out of his pants and started to masturbate. He watched as other guys had gotten closer and offered to suck him. The guy declined all of the advances, settling to jack off on his own. He watched as the guy stroked on his thick cock and play with his heavy ballsac until his breathing became quicker and deeper. The guy shot cum onto the cement floor of the back and still fondled his cock as it got soft.
The guy tucked himself back into his jeans and announced that he needed another drink. The other patrons stood around, rubbing their crotches while staring at the puddles of semen on the floor. They had started to pair off to suck each other off.
He settled back, lit another cigarette and did not bother to watch the other men engaging in sex. Soon, the masturbator returned. He settled down back where he had sat before, smiled and lit a cigarette. The guy did not pay attention to the orgy his one-man show had incited.
He was intrigued by the guy; proud that someone had showcased their need for no one else. He had that once. And it was a life he chose to return to.
He decided that he would not give Jose his resume. He would not walk back into a situation that he had encountered before. He would not leave himself vulnerable to the slight chance of again being tricked into thinking that honesty, loyalty and kinship were the basis of relationships.
He finished his drink and walked out of the back room. He walked through the bar, peering up at the porn still playing on the monitors.
He said goodbye to Jose and walked out of the bar.
He walked through the thick leather strips hanging in front of the bar. There was the familiar smell of musk. A couple of patrons sat along the bar sipping their drinks as the alternative music thumped through the speakers. It was a bit dark inside with most of the light coming from the bar. He inhaled deeply.
It was good to be back.
He sauntered up to the bar. The bartender, Jose, looked up and smiled. He walked over to the well.
"Hey, how's it going? I heard you were coming back.," Jose said.
"It's going. You're looking good."
"Thanks! Are you back for good or for a visit?"
"Not sure yet. I just got in the day before yesterday."
"Well, it's good to see you. Your usual?"
"Thanks, Jose!"
Jose poured a scotch neat and placed a bottle of beer next to it.
He paid for his drink and took a breath. When Jose counted out the change, he left a two dollar tip. "Would you know of any part-time jobs available anywhere?" he asked.
"Do you still have your California bartender's license?"
"As a matter of fact, I do."
"We could use some help around here if you're interested."
He thought for a moment. Working in a bar was a great job to have, but he had refrained from going back into another situation. "Thanks, baby! Let me think about it for awhile."
"Okay, just bring me your resume. I'll make sure Carlton gets it."
"You are indeed a very sweet guy."
"I just hope it keeps you here this go round."
He picked up his drinks and settled next to a pinball machine. He deposited a couple of dollars and started to play the game.
Jose was the only bartender he knew at the bar. It used to be his hangout when he lived in San Francisco a few years ago. When he moved back to Seattle, he and Jose kept in contact through social networks and whenever he would fly down for a short visit. Now, he was back. Maybe for good. Nothing turned out the way that he thought they would when he returned to the city he had missed so much. When would he learn that people would always hurt him?
Finally, he thought, he got the lesson that life had been forcing on him since social interaction was thought to be a way to live one's life. He had somehow missed being alone. He had missed having no one in his life. They called him a loner. He never thought of himself as much, but he knew that they were right. He knew that there was no other way to live his life in peace and acceptance. People usually kept their own agendas intact - never bothering to explore a more kinder side.
He drank and played two games of pinball. When he was through with the second game, he gulped the remains of his beer and ordered another round.
There were a few guys standing around towards the back of the bar, chatting with each other or watching the porn on the monitors. He kept walking through the bar until he was in the back. The heavy and thick stench of cigarettes, marajuana and musk was familiar to him. There were a few guys standing and talking as he walked out. More towards the back stood three guys, smoking and talking.
Someone offered him a toke on a joint. After he blew out smoke, he made his way towards the back and sat down on a bench. He took out a cigarette and lit it. The three guys greeted him. Two of the guys wore suits. It was obvious that they had come here directly from work and were on their last cocktails. He didn't pay much attention to their conversation. He had rather stay out of it.
He settled back and relaxed as he smoked and drank. Tomorrow he would wake up and return working on the screenplay he had been paid to write. An independent producer had read his online book about two porn addicts who meet and fall in love and decided to purchase the movie rights. He had gotten an agent who settled the deal. The producer wanted him to write the screenplay. And with what he had made with selling the rights and being paid to write the screenplay came the decision to leave Seattle for good; to re-settle in San Francisco where he could fade into the mix of the city by the bay and recapture a life alone.
The two guys wearing suits finished their drinks and left. The other guy, dressed in a long sleeved t-shirt and a pair of jeans, remained. The guy lit a joint and smoked it, offering him a hit or two. He started to feel the effects from the first joint and hit the one that was offered to him. The guy did not try to make conversation. He was relaxed - enjoying being stoned. The guy had started to rub his crotch, helping an already noticable bulge get larger. Harder.
He watched when the guy took his dick out of his pants and started to masturbate. He watched as other guys had gotten closer and offered to suck him. The guy declined all of the advances, settling to jack off on his own. He watched as the guy stroked on his thick cock and play with his heavy ballsac until his breathing became quicker and deeper. The guy shot cum onto the cement floor of the back and still fondled his cock as it got soft.
The guy tucked himself back into his jeans and announced that he needed another drink. The other patrons stood around, rubbing their crotches while staring at the puddles of semen on the floor. They had started to pair off to suck each other off.
He settled back, lit another cigarette and did not bother to watch the other men engaging in sex. Soon, the masturbator returned. He settled down back where he had sat before, smiled and lit a cigarette. The guy did not pay attention to the orgy his one-man show had incited.
He was intrigued by the guy; proud that someone had showcased their need for no one else. He had that once. And it was a life he chose to return to.
He decided that he would not give Jose his resume. He would not walk back into a situation that he had encountered before. He would not leave himself vulnerable to the slight chance of again being tricked into thinking that honesty, loyalty and kinship were the basis of relationships.
He finished his drink and walked out of the back room. He walked through the bar, peering up at the porn still playing on the monitors.
He said goodbye to Jose and walked out of the bar.
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