BARDO Magazine Issue 1 - Page 7

“Yeah, sure.”

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Tequila drips down my hand and seeps into a cut.

“SHIT.” Pure pain.

“WE’RE NOT DONE YET. THIS IS ONLY OUR SEVENTH SHOT.”

“No, I know, I know… I just… er, okay yeah let’s do this.”

I don’t think any of us realize how fucking sloppy we look at this very moment. Our testosterone levels are through the roof and the phrase ‘turnt up’ would perfectly describe this situation… and we wouldn’t be afraid to use it.

We raise our miniature glasses up.

He smirks. “What’s this one for?”

“To… to friendship!” I smile confidently.

His grin grows wide, teeth shining through.

“Friendship!”

Down the tequila goes and burns my flesh.

“THAT TEQUILA IS PURE SHIT.” I yell with a little bit more enthusiasm and insult than expected.

“Whatever, it’s free for you so take it.” Laughing loudly, he sits onto the suede couch again and lays out, legs sprawled.

There’s nobody else in the room. I look around nervously, trying to act like I’m looking for somebody, but I’m clearly not. I check my phone for any excuse to do something…

I don’t think I’ve been this drunk before. I really don’t. Like, I don’t typically hang out with somebody one and one that just wants to get fucked up.

I’m typically just with a group of friends and when the third beer comes around I get too tired and go home. Or, I smoke too much weed and get too tired and go home. Either way, I’m able to drive at some point. I think I’m so fucked up that I’ll never be able to drive again…

What is this guy thinking, getting me this drunk? Do you think he put stuff in my drinks—

NO. I’ll just stop there. Bitch, don’t start on the ol’ drunken, paranoid path to self destruction now… Anytime but now. We’ve been having incredible conversation. Nothing is weird. Everything is cool. Everything is—

“Hey.”

SHIT.

Wait. How the FUCK did I get here?

We couldn’t have been any farther apart than an inch. You know when you’re sitting next to someone very closely and your thighs accidentally touch or your shoulders brush up against one another only due to the fact that you’re within a crowd and there isn’t any other choice? Well, this was happening, except we were the only two people in the room, and there was plenty of space. Plenty.

“H-hey…”

He stares at me for a long time. This is difficult to sustain because I can’t look anyone straight in the eyes; their face becomes distorted and then I don’t know what I’m looking at. You can’t stare at two eyes at once, you need a focal point, damn it!

“Uh…”

He breaks contact.

“Are you hungry?”

I can breathe.

“YES. Yes. Yeah. Uh, yes. Starving.”

“I’m kind of in the mood for…”

“Del Taco?”

“Yes.”

“Death… death… w-what is, what is death, anyways?!” he blurts out in the Del Taco. A couple of truckers turn their heads.

“Heh, I think we know what death is.”

“Then what is it?! What is the deciding factor of the moment of your death?”

“That’s the thing though, there isn’t a reason or a factor that we can put our puny little human fingers on, because then that would make us feel better, that would make us believe in God, right?”

“Are you saying we don’t believe in God?”

Please God, don’t let this guy be Mormon.

“Well, I certainly think that there is an unfathomable universal force guiding us entities along our way, but I also think that nature and science can’t be denied, and that when our time is up, it’s up. That’s it.”

“Okay. I agree. And I agree about a star wizard being God… but why that exact moment?”

“Sure, that’s confusing, I agree, I don’t know! But why anything then! Why are we together right now?”

He sits back.