Friday, July 17, 2009

The Streak - 39

Evan and Kyle abandoned the table for the bar, having played umpteen games and more or less split them, angle of incidence and angle of reflection, gaining nothing and losing nothing but hours clocked in the vain struggle to reconcile intoxication with reality.

Kyle checked the time on his phone.

"OK, what's the point of that?"


"You're checking to see what time the alarm's gonna go off."


"What's the point of an alarm if you're watching the time?"

"Fuck off. Two more minutes," Kyle said contentedly, putting the phone back in his pocket.

"It's supposed to be like, a nice surprise."

Kyle only sighed. A few moments passed.

I was raised by a toothless, bearded hag
I was schooled with a strap right across my back

"Two minutes? Really?" Evan said hopefully.

"Really. Cheers."

They clinked glasses and drank in silence for a while.

But it's all right now, in fact, it's a gas!
But it's all right, I'm Jumpin' Jack Flash it's a gas, gas, gas!

The news played silently on the TV at the far end of the bar. The crawl said:


"It wasn't masturbation. It was terrorism," Evan remarked dully.


Evan nodded in the direction of the screen.

"They're saying terrorism. Not masturbation."

Kyle eyed the television disappointedly. "Pfff. Same difference."

Dah dah dah dah dadedah dah dah dah dah dah!

"Giddyup!" said Evan brightly.

"Go time!"

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