Past Memories, chapter 1

The bar's atmosphere turned fuzzy. I felt like I was going to pass out but I held my ground. I felt like I was going to throw up but I held my liquor. The people around me turned to swirls of color all mashed together. The music which was currently playing turned distant, as if I had moved away but was still sitting on the same barstool. The bartender gave me a weary look. He himself looked tired but carried on his job which was to give out sweet painkillers.

I ordered another round of beers and god knows what the man had given me to kill the pain. But the pain wouldn't go away. The pain would never go away it always kept coming back.

"Miss, I think you've had enough to drink," the man said. 'Enough' I thought to myself was never enough. He started to quietly wipe the bar around me. I lifted up my bottle and set it back down. For some strange reason I was fascinated with the little water spot that had formed. I started to poke it as if I thought it might harm me. I was never like this. Never went out and got drunk by myself. Only this time I had lost the man I loved.

It always turned out to be love for me as or so I thought. The men would come and go and each one I thought I was in love with. I thought they loved me back too but only to turn around and find they had cheated on me. I hated people with a passion who cheated on someone who loved them very much.

But that's life. But why did it always had to happen to me? I felt so alone in this world with no one to care for me. Well you see I have family but they don't count nor do my friends. I do love them all dearly and are proud of every single one of them but their love is not enough. I yearned for the love only a man could give his wife. Like the kind of love you only see in movies or only the lucky few who find true love.

I don't wanna think about that anymore. I would just make myself more depressed and dependent on the beer that flowed through my system. I tired to look on the positive side of life but where to start? I had family and friends who cared deeply about me that was one thing. I had music especially Green Day music. Oh god how I loved them. They were like my life. I had absolutely fallen madly in love with the lead guitarist. What was his name? God this would drive me nuts I could tell.

Well anyway, I had my horses that's three. I loved them so much as much as Green Day. I couldn't live without them. I had the Red Sox, well actually, I was a frequent visitor to their games. They were in my life a lot. I wasn't obsessed not enough to go that far to have Yankee toilet paper but close. Actually I wanted some. Ever since I had seen Fever Pitch, I wanted some. I think that was it. A grand total of four things as a whole. I had a lot of family and friends, horses and I don't know how many people on the Red Sox and Green Day.

"Miss bar closes in an hour or two. You might want to finish up what you got there." The man was giving me the hint to leave. Since I was so wasted, I decided to piss him off for fun. I'm normally not so daring and rude but hey, who could blame you when you're wasted? It's technically not your fault the alcohol reigns your system. Ok, well maybe it is.

"Can I get another one of your what-ya-ma-call-it drinks," I slurred pounding the bar top with my fist. Oh my, I was worse than the men were, maybe that's why they were giving me looks of surprise. None of them were half as wasted as me. Oh well what's a person to do when they're down?

The bartender handed me my drink and said, "Go easy on this, please. Oh yeah and don't ask what's in it."

I nodded my head, heeding the man's warning I drank it slowly. "Wow that was good. What's in it?"

"It's in my bartender's guide not to tell you," he managed with an easygoing smile. I studied the man's features he looked like the average man. He looked like he was in his late fifties', hair graying and thinning with a small bald spot on top. He was somewhat short and not to be mean, fat. He wore a grey short sleeve shirt and some nice pants. Oh yeah, and he was married. Damn, why did everyone in the room have to be married, I already checked them all out to see if they had rings.

I looked outside, it was already pitch black out except for a lone street lamp. The Paris streets were deserted this time of night. Yep, I was in Paris with my "boyfriend" until I found him cheating on me with some French prostitute. So I managed to find this bar which was convenitatley located near my hotel.

I looked towards to the small television screen that was sitting on to the bar. It was on MTV. I didn't know they got MTV out here, wow, I am so out of touch with the world around me. I mean the people of Paris have a right to watch MTV right?
They played Over My Head (Cable Car) by The Fray music video. I love that song.

A familiar scene played on the screen. It was an animation of a bomb dropping, then it hit me. "Oh my god it's Green Day," I screamed. Everyone looked toward the doors but they saw nothing. "On the television," I screamed. I always get so excited when I saw or heard Green Day. The people gave me disgusted looks and finished their conversations and what not.

Jerks I thought to myself, I mean what can you expect when you're at a bar? Ah obviously stupidity from drunk people. I continued to watch and downed my drink. I could feel the cool liquid traveling down my throat. Then, something made me look towards the door.

I looked and saw a man drunkenly walk towards the door. He must have gotten kicked out of the last bar he was in. He swung open the door and stumbled inside. He stood there for a moment, eyes blinking and trying to figure out his surroundings, and the adjustment to the light. The door came flying back at him and hit him on the butt. "Ow," he cried rubbing his ass. I don't think that could have hurt that much, but then again when you're piss ass drunk it might. His eyes searched around for an empty place to sit. He stumbled towards where I was sitting.

Great I have someone to bug me. Just what I needed, an ass who has a pain in the ass. He tried to grab onto the bar stool but slipped and fell. The bar stool was one of those swirly ones. He put his hand on the back of his head and yelped out in pain. I tried so hard not laugh. To me when people hurt themselves I find it hilarious. The man glared at me. The bartender rushed over and helped the man up and over onto the barstool. He quickly took out some ice and put in a bag and handed it to the man. "Here ya go." The man mumbled a thank you and put it on his bump.

He glanced at me. "What ya drinking?" He pointed to the half-empty glass in front of me. I tried to hold back a hiccup before I answered but failed. He started to laugh. "It's not that funny only a hiccup." Then I hiccupped again he put his head on the bar and started to laugh then hiccupped himself. Then I joined in on a good laugh, stupid but to us funny.

We had a few good laughs. With each minute that passed by we both got more wasted. Was that even possible? Soon the bartender shooed people out. He approached us carefully as if expecting us to order more beer. "Sorry kids, but you got to leave, I have a family to get home to." The man shrugged and paid for his alcohol. I reached for my wallet in my pocket but he quickly said "I'll pay for hers too." He took out a huge wad of cash and told the bartender to keep the change.

The bartender went over to the tables and put up the chairs. He finished and flicked off the lights. We walked outside into the cool, crisp Paris air. A big gust of wind almost knocked me over but I hung on to the lamppost. The bartender locked up told us to have a good night and walked down the street towards his home.

My new friend stretched his arms over his head and yawned. A little bit of stomach peeked through as his shirt rode up. I tried not to stare but failed. "Let's go sit down and talk," he said in a tired tone. We walked over to a bench nearby and sat down. At this point, I finally noticed the man's appearance. He wore a Ramones shirt and some jeans and to complete the look all black converse.

"I'm sorry I started to laugh when you fell off the barstool," I said look down at my hands. I normally don't talk to strangers let alone sit with them on Paris' deserted streets.

He let out a small laugh. "Hey, it's ok I have a saying. It's fun until someone gets hurt then its hilarious." I laughed a bit too.

"Thanks I needed a good laugh," I said turning a bit sad. The only way I could have met this man was through pain and heartache. His face turned from smiling to a look of concern.

I think this is a good time to mention that we both are completed wasted, even beyond wasted. What's beyond wasted? Anyway, he looked at me and said, "Why, what's wrong?"

I looked down I really didn't want to face my problems and when I did at least I had a friend-alcohol. It's not like I'm an alcoholic or anything but I use it sometimes. "Um," I tried so hard not to cry in front of this stranger.

"It's s'kay if you really don't wanna tell me I'm just," he hiccupped, "I'm a stranger."

I decided to face my fears and meet my problem head on. "No it's okay," I started to cry I lost my ground, "I need to tell someone. I came here with my boyfriend but he I he," I had lost it, I was bawling my eyes out to a stranger, "I found him cheating on me." I tried to wipe the tears that were rapidly flowing down my cheeks making my cheeks cold and wet. I gathered my sweatshirt and wrapped it around my hands to help wipe the tears away.

My friend started blankly ahead as if trying to cheer me up. He took me against his chest and just cradled me. I sat rocking back and forth in a stranger's arms. He was trying to hush me saying it's ok or everything's going to be fine. Maybe he wasn't wasted as I thought. He stopped rocking me and the wonderful sense of power and safety that he controlled me with stopped.

"What's your name?" he asked me. The whole time we spent together we never asked each other's name.

"Anne," I replied. Even through the darkness that was surrounded us, I had a feeling this man was smiling.

"Nice to finally meet you Anne. I'm Billie Joe."