by Richard K. Cedeno
It was a little late and I all I wanted to do was have a drink, but being nineteen limits the things you can do. "Just a tall glass of milk," I told the bartender. He poured it with the grace that you would think bartenders would have and I could immediately tell that he was cool. Cool enough to let me get a few beers here and there and give me some advice on how to get the girl three stools down, cause she was beautiful. He said she liked confidence so I was confident as I sat smoothly next to her letting her know all of my intentions before saying a single thing. I told her about how I just moved to the city and how I wanted to become an artist and how tipsy I was and how drunk I really wanted to be and how beautiful she was and how much fun we could have if she spent the night and she told me about how she was living with her two messy room mates and how she wanted to become a writer and how she really wanted to smoke some weed and how cute she thought I was and how much she loved city nights.
Richard K. Cedeno can be reached here.