The bar is shut and I’m standing here with a bottle in my hand, grime in my hair and thoughts in my mind. The bottle is empty, some of its contents is splattered by the side of the bar. That guy that sold ideas had ruined my chances with the blonde with the short skirt and the long legs. She gave up smiling as I gave up on the night. She left with someone else as I knocked him out. Well I wished I had knocked him out. it was the whiskey he drank that knocked him out. The doorman knocked three shade of shit out of me while throwing the pair of us up the alleyway. He only did because he fancied Ms Blonde himself. I could see jealousy in his eye as he opened the skin above my eye with a punch. I don’t know what I am doing with the bottle. somehow I imagined sticking it in to his face, but I wouldn’t be able to do that. I throw it against the window and it smashes. The bottle not the window. I run , where do you run to when you have no where to go.