You!

[Boogus Epirus Aurelius]

I’m a sucker for conflict, especially when I’m comfortable on the sidelines looking in. Conflict is a spectator sport.

Over time, you get a knack for where to find it. You keep a mental journal of hotspots and lowspots and warmspots. Spots that you can find a barstool or a booth at easily enough to get a good view. Front row tickets usually sell out early with standing room  being the only option.


When I’m looking for a quieter night, a night where most of my friends and coworkers are pumping the late night iron, I usually end up going to a little side street bar called Nill’s. Nill’s is seconds off the mini-mall tavern drag that is main street,  a wood paneled nightmare with faux art-deco ceiling tiles and busted period-piece chandeliers. It is the type of relic that you toss aside and shiver past.

When you’re a professional people watcher in a smaller city, your options are kind of limited. Nill’s breaks every mode, every Saturday night standard. It is the sweaty, fuzzy antithesis to everything that is dance floors and fifteen dollar cocktails. It is the front row ticket to the tiniest show on earth. It is the holy grail of low-down spectating.

Conflict isn’t like film until you have finished processing it and have added an original score and your own special effects. For example, tonight began with the tiniest shoulder-check from a person in a white shirt to a gent in a black shirt (inherent fabricism). Black shirt drips a drip of invisible amber onto his black shirt. Black shirt turns around, revolted at liquid on black shirt. White shirt responds with quick wit and buzzed tongue.

People in the five foot vicinity hush. Heads turn on a dime. 

White shirt is full of social lubricant with local ladies waiting for him to live up to that shoulder-check. 

Song: “Some Velvet Morning” by Nancy Sinatra.

The back and forth is dead on arrival. There is only the middle now and the circle forms. It is high school dreams reignited. White shirt’s ten dollar Kohl’s Polo is turning brown from spilled beer and cola as he is pushed into a bar-stool. Black shirt absorbs everything.

And, no more than thirty seconds pass and it is over. One glass broken. One cracked ego.

One seven dollar check and I am walking through the middle of it. Out the door.

[C.Mongler]

 

[Nyerp]

why do you waste these on boyah

[C.Mongler]

 

[Boogus Epirus Aurelius]

How is the mongling business. 

[Socks]

why do you waste these on boyah

Waste? You saw one raindrop fall from a continuous storm. Nothing is lost that wasn't there. So that's not the issue. What's unfortunate is that thoughts must be so elusive. It's not easy to share. I can use signs and sounds or symbols, but that would only get us from here to there. Which is not useful. But then again what is thought? And do you even know what you are? You think you know all of these things, because you're sitting there, but that is not really. Observe sometime an ant, and you will see this truly.

[Nyerp]

oh

[??????]

i like watching niggers in the sultry heat nearby coney island beach fist fight one one another, tearing one another's weave off because tyrone was supposed to be one of their baby's father

[Boogus Epirus Aurelius]

i like watching niggers in the sultry heat nearby coney island beach fist fight one one another, tearing one another's weave off because tyrone was supposed to be one of their baby's father

Thunder dome

[Socks]

Since we're on the subject. I have a habit of staring into cars. Once I stared at a woman that was parked a few spaces to my left, as she vigorously put on makeup with the help of her rear view mirror. It was several minutes before she noticed me. I thought this was inappropriate behavior on her part. So I felt I could look  at her in somewhat disbelief. She didn't seem thrilled to see me, but I grinned inside and gave her the thumbs up sign. She got out of her car as naturally as she could after that, and I presume went in to work.

[Boogus Epirus Aurelius]

Since we're on the subject. I have a habit of staring into cars. Once I stared at a woman that was parked a few spaces to my left, as she vigorously put on makeup with the help of her rear view mirror. It was several minutes before she noticed me. I thought this was inappropriate behavior on her part. So I felt I could look  at her in somewhat disbelief. She didn't seem thrilled to see me, but I grinned inside and gave her the thumbs up sign. She got out of her car as naturally as she could after that, and I presume went in to work.

Yeah! I mean, the weirdest, most personal encounters sometimes just come from rearview mirror glances. Because of the separation and the distance. And how shitty those encounters are because they are personally impersonal.

[C.Mongler]

How is the mongling business. 

hinders my ability to read thats for damn sure

[6M69I69B9]

sometimes i feel like crying when reading this thread

literally

[Daddy]

sometimes i feel like crying when reading this thread

literally

Why?

[6M69I69B9]

Why?

i feel incompetent.  like i'm just missing something important

maybe im just being "dumb" but things just get to me