At the bar you will meet many cute girls but in the end be torn away from them by strangers posing as boyfriends. I had managed to get back into the bar, which was necessary because I had traded my license for a que ball, and forgotten to trade it back. For a bouncer it could be a difficult proposition: I've got to get in, because my ID is in there and.. No, I don't have an ID, its in.. What? But how can I.. Alright fuck you.
But with good fortune, he lets me slip by and I recover the valuable white sphere to return it to its rightful owner. So here I am at the bar, next to this cute girl who I'm about to explore with a thrilling introspective question like "Are you waiting for a drink?" Of course, boringly obvious inquiries like this ALWAYS attract interest when standing beside bar stools at 1 in the morning, and we immediately get down to a thorough exploration of the themes surrounding alcohol acquisition. The conversation is a pleasant one and the attraction is mutual. Despite this, and despite all good fortune thus far, a smiling adversary with a name like Eric or Mike comes over and puts his hands around her. "What are you doing talking to my girl friend?" He's joking, but I look at her, and I look at him, and realize I've just come back for my license. I say goodbye, but her face looks embarrassed, either because this is her boyfriend and she knows I like her, or because he's not and he's ruining everything. I step away and back to the door with a vision in my head: Her scolding him for interrupting, and then a dreamy look on her face, staring at my retreating figure wondering where it would have went.
I'm back out on the streets, grinning evilly with the knowledge that I stirred up some emotion that wasn't there when I came in.