Colfax Dissatisfaction by NoRulezChris

     She seemed like a nice girl as we walked up Colfax Ave. from the Capitol eastbound. My brain instantly becomes achy as I walk through the cloudiness somewhere to find the torturing memories. We stopped for a minute and gave each other a little kiss on the lips. My mind has yet to let me process this completely but I know it didn’t take me long to grasp for anyone, somewhat attractive, to cling to, for a little love, and attention. Excuses, excuses as I journeyed to finish a sharp end, to my short night of writing. Outta the deep cave, I crawled back to my new future, being a writer. Instead of Gonzo, I understood I needed not to force myself into stories as they built around me or I was already somewhere inside a great story. I had read almost everything Hunter S. Thompson ever wrote. I pretended great was the word, horrific could be used more accurately in this story.
     The new chick I met was interested in going to the new Horror Bar I had heard about on Facebook. I ordered a Lyft and away we went. The underground bar was small and interesting. A whore I was at the Horror Bar sitting alone drinking some PBR watching the Thing by John Carpenter, wishing my new friend would quit arguing at the bar. She had taken a shot at the bar and gotten a drink. I heard more bickering. Then all of a sudden she storms out of the horror-themed movie bar. The new girl I liked was breaking down outside about something. I went back to the bar to get her ID when the dual bartenders told me, “She could have her ID back once she paid her twelve-dollar tab.” I didn’t understand why she didn’t have the twelve bucks. I will cover her drinks. The guys are asking me, am I sure…I want to do that, but I don’t have to. I know. “We didn’t know if you had known or not”, as the bartenders at the horror bar seemed quite sad, no laughing or jump scares. “I knew what?” That, maybe, she didn’t have money and hustled drinks? We just met, I explained as I looked at her ID, and she was a HE. I hung my head as I walked out of the warehouse bar, hearing the two bartenders’ apologies in the background.
  Crossing Colfax Ave. somewhere around The Bluebird Theatre, asking him “Why didn’t you tell me we’re a Dude?” He told me not to do that, and that I didn’t understand. Everything about her transformed. Now, all I could see was the guy in her and I lost all attraction. His walk had changed, his talk had changed and he appeared to cry but with no tears. I gave him his ID and began walking back towards downtown, dumbfounded in myself. He did nothing wrong, I was attracted to a guy who thought of himself as a girl and I did for a while also. A few blocks away would be a 7-11 with tall-ass cans of beer at an affordable price. I could have also bought cigarettes, energy pills, and a dozen eggs, along with my trough of beer. I love America! The beer was all I wanted after I visited The Fax and Horror Bar.
     I drank the tall boy beers that I bought at the 711 and walked on the south side of Colfax, heading westbound towards Broadway. I stopped in front of a liquor store and a car pulled up with a guy and a lady who were obviously intoxicated. I asked them something. They ignored me, so what did I do? I decided to spray beer all over them! They drove off, and I walked away, continuing to drink my beer.

NoRulezChris 
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