Something about this time and space

The wetness of the mud was soaking through my shoes. Fuck my socks are going to be wet.

What has become of me?
Why the hell did I let Gabriel talk me into going out tonight?

When we were in our 20s, smoking weed and going to bars was a given. It was actually odd when we didn't. 1,2,3 sober check, was something only thought about when we had to deal with cops. Now it's just the state of play.

There is something about this time and space, that just feels old and tired. As these strange random middle-age men stare at this kiddie pool filled with mud, as two young ladies are wrestling in the corner of this lonely old bar, on a Wednesday night.

Why, why, why this thing?

I wish I smoked cigarettes so that I could have an excuse to go outside and no one would bug me.

I can overhear random small talk.

How about that game
The weather has been hot as balls
Naw I can't go out Friday I got the kids this weekend

I stare just beyond the girls, at an old punk poster on the wall. Gabriel leans over to me and says

Sorry Man, I thought it was gonna be better tonight. My bad.

Don't trip, it just cool to see you. Been a long time.

Yup.

I take a slug of beer, and it's as stale as the air on this strange awkward night...