Another Drink And Maybe I'll Forget.

*this is a work of fiction and all similarities to real people and/or incidences is purely your imagination fucking with you.

David looked down at the plate in front of him. Two eggs, sunny side up, two strips of bacon, a half-eaten pancake. The half of the pancake that was eaten was the only thing he could manage to eat and he was done. What a waste. Then there was the plate across the table from him - two pancakes, a side of grits. Uneaten and to remain uneaten. He had ordered it for Kate, knowing it was her favorite. Kate, who showed up, sat down, said a few words, and left without eating.

"I'm only here to tell you it's over. I'm done. I'm leaving you for Andy. I'm sorry. Goodbye."

Then she was gone.

David sat there, silent. He took a sip of his coffee. It was hot and it tasted like sadness - bitter, black, but not like coffee. He looked at his plate some more. His appetite was gone, and he felt like the rest of him was too. The coffee was the only thing he felt he could digest. Then he looked over at Kate's plate and the empty seat behind it.

Fuck, he thought. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

"FUUUUUUUCK!"

David stood up and screamed. Everyone else in the diner stopped eating and looked at him. Everyone else - about ten people.

"FUUUCK! YOU BITCH! YOU FUCKING BITCH!"

He smashed a fist into his plate and it shattered and food went everywhere. Then he picked up Kate's plate and threw it on the ground and it shattered. The pancakes slid across the floor and the grits splattered on David's shoes. Someone yelled "Sir!", trying to stop David, but David kept screaming.

"FUCK! FUCK! GODDAMN! FUCK! FUCK!"

Tears ran down his face. He started kicking tables and chairs over. He punched a wall and made a dent (it was drywall). The manager of the diner ran up to David and tried to restrain him but David punched him in the temple hard and he went down harder. A woman sitting at a booth with a baby screamed in terror. David kept kicking, punching, and screaming "FUCK!"

When David felt like he had torn up the diner enough, he stormed out.
He ran down the sidewalk, flailing his arms.

"FUUUUUUCK!"

He knocked over an old couple walking hand in hand as he passed them, but he stopped and helped them get back up and apologize and then kept running. He ran until he was too tired to run anymore. He stopped, leaned over, and put his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. He looked around. He wasn't sure where he was. He was in front of a bar, he could see that. Hallelujah. He stood up and straightened himself out and went in.

The bar smelled like a bar, like piss. It was empty except for an old drunk at the end of the bar and the bartender, so it wasn't really empty at all. David took a seat close to the entrance and signaled for the bartender, a tall, slim man with a thick mustache.

"What can I get for ya?" the bartender asked.

"Anything that will make me forget that my woman just left me."

"Well, this is a bar. We have alcohol. So that leaves a lot of options."

"Just...whiskey. With ice."

"Okay."

The bartender got David his whiskey with ice and said "Hope this helps."

"Thanks," David said.

David sat there and drank. It burned and it felt good. He felt some tears still rolling down his face so he wiped them away. The drunk at the end of the bar groaned and slammed his beer bottle down.

"Eeyagyuhbuuuh..." he said.

The bartender yelled.

"Caulfield, you've had enough! I'm not giving you another! Get the hell out of here!"

The old drunk got up and stumbled out.

Then the bartender walked over to David, cleaning a glass with a rag in his hand.

"So. Why'd you woman leave ya?"

"Oh...she left me for some shit...her friend. I knew it was coming. She's been talking about the fucker for weeks now."

"Shitty. I'm sorry."

"I'll be okay maybe."

"Is that drink helping?"

"I still remember she left me. Get me another and maybe I'll forget."

The bartender got him another. He drank it.

"You know, sir -"

"David."

"You know, David, a lot of guys come in here like you - upset, sad, trying to forget that their women left them -"

"Woman," David said. "Just one."

"Women. Anyways. I get guys like you every day. They come in and drink to forget. I've been doing this for years. Seen it all. And here's how I see it: If you cared enough about her in the first place to try and forget about her, you really don't want to try and forget about her at all. Ya know?"

David put his drink down and thought about what he'd just been told. Then he started crying again. He put his head down on the bar and wailed like a baby.

"Shit," said the bartender. "I'll get you another."

He got David another and David drained it.

Then the bar door opened and two pairs of legs walked in. Man and a woman. The woman hung onto the man's arm like a fucking Christmas ornament. A Christmas ornament he was fucking. David looked at them. Because of the alcohol it took him a moment to realize who they were. But then - the woman was Kate, and the man was that fucker Andy. First David looked at Kate and then Kate looked at David and then David looked at Andy and then David got up from his seat and ran up to Andy and decked him in the jaw. Kate screamed "DAVID! NO!" and fell down backwards. He ignored her. The bartender stopped what he was doing and watched. Andy returned a punch into David's chest, but David was hardly affected. He got two hits in and then Andy was on the ground. He was bleeding from the nose. David got on top of him and started swinging. Andy could barely move. Pussy.

"Bartender!" David yelled. "Throw me an icepick!"

"Hell, okay!"

The bartender got an icepick and threw it and it landed on the floor next to David. He picked it up and stabbed it into Andy's eyes. Andy screamed. Then David got off of him and yanked down Andy's pants, revealing his tiny, hairy cock and balls. They were so small that David had to laugh. He looked at Kate.

"You left me for this?"

Kate shrugged, said nothing.

David grabbed hold of Andy's cock and then shoved the icepick through it and yanked it upwards, splitting it in two like a limp sausage cut vertically. Blood was everywhere. Andy screamed and screamed and screamed. David put the icepick in Andy's forehead and Andy stopped screaming. He was dead. David stood up, panting.

He looked at Kate again.

Her mouth was open in awe. She looked like she was screaming but she wasn't. She sat on the ground, leaning back, arms behind her on the ground for support, her legs bent and slightly spread in front of her. Her dress had fallend own revealing his thighs and David could see her panties.

David walked up to her, grabbed her face, and kissed her. She kissed him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. He picked her up, just like that, and carried her over to the bar and put her on the bar.

"Alright!" shouted the bartender. "Get it!"

Then he lit a cigarette and leaned against the wall.

David wasn't paying attention to him though. He and Kate were on the bar now, kissing and a mess of arms and legs. Then David pulled Kate's dress all the way up and moved her panties aside and pulled his pants down and they got it on, right there, on the bar. It was good, they both thought it was good and when it was over Kate went to the restroom and David pulled up his pants and sat down where he had been sitting earlier. He looked at his whiskey glass and saw that it was empty.

"Bartender," he said. "I'll have another."