I watched him pace the hard wood floor. It’s too early not to have another beer.  Preceding towards the bar He looks like a character whose disposition had faded. I would chalk it of to the sea of college kids living off meat and potatoes “‘cause the state pays for that”.  His slow crossing circuit reminds me of the first time I was picked up by the wrong the bus. Kiss Me by Sixpence None The Richer was making the journey from the drivers speakers to my ears. Either the driver or fate had some kind of taste.

He returns pale beer in hand, and a forced smile manifest upon his face. With deceit in his eyes, he raves to his friends about the taste amidst the lies of his life. We both know that beer doesn’t really grow on you and neither will this lackluster lifestyle.