Bar folk

I hate having to sneak out for cigarettes. Wasn't my plan to quit because it would be so hard? Instead, I come back from a meeting and my dad says, "You smell all smokey." I say I was outside with the smokers, which is true, and he says, "bar folk." Yup. Bar folk.

Last night I was at the coffee bar at the club and there was a guy in front of me who totally looked like me ex John. Ahh, John. He was the first alcoholic I moved in with, really my first alcoholic boyfriend. I worked with him, and he asked me out to a concert one night. We made out, went back to his place, and I never left. Really. I just slowly moved my stuff in to his place, until we decided to get a place of our own. I think when I moved out I didn't even have one box of stuff, and that was a year later. I don't know what I had over there. I didn't have a car, so I'm sure I just wore the same few shirts all the time. I had a uniform for work.

I don't remember a whole lot from living with John, except that we went out every night and then drank in. He took me to the Bahamas once, and that was lovely. He was a wonderful salesman, and could get a deal to anywhere.

But man was he an alcoholic. I think he was on his third DUI by the time we broke up, and he had gotten away with all of them. I don't know how, but really, he was an incredible salesman. I miss him sometimes. He was an interesting cat, and I really liked him. I keep trying to find him, and I suppose I could if I really tried, since I know where his mom lives and everything.

I ran into him a few years ago at a bar, and we hung out all night. I went home with him, and it was just like old times. He was really good in bed. I suppose I miss that, too.