2 Beers

It's a bit cold outside. My chucks are tapping the pavement and I'm wishing I wore a long sleeve, but fuck it.
I post up at my old haunt and order a beer. I take off my hat as some chick compliments me on it.
I make small talk with the 2 bartenders I know and the bar manager. The usual. Well, what used to be the usual.
I didn't rush to make it downtown to have enough hours to get wasted b/c my tolerance is so high.....b/c my tolerance isn't high anymore. It's been over a month since I was pretty drunk. And I've gone days upon days with maybe a beer b/c I was bored and watching TV before going to bed.

2 fat chicks post up nearby, hoping that enough make up and tattoos will fool some sap's eyes into not seeing how fat they are. It doesn't work. No dudes bite the fat, salty, greasy bait and they eventually turn to their phones for entertainment. I don't see any cute chicks but it's something I notice as an afterthought, not from consciously looking/surveying the place.

I start to wish I'd ordered a light beer. I could slap myself across the face for thinking this.
Some european fag cracks a joke as I make my way back inside but I don't have the patience or the gusto to respond b/c he's european, his friends are dressed effeminately and b/c I'm spent from training balls out the past few weeks.

I sit quietly and appreciate my beer and the solace of it all.
I briefly consider the stupid argument I had with my wife. How futile. Both the argument and thinking of it now, that is.
I realize that I don't really care. None of it, of this, of any of it matters to me. I look forward to going home, getting ****, and sleeping deeply.

My buddy posts up. We chit chat and whatnot and before I know it, it's midnight.
I realize with derision and modest surprise....that I am tired.
This was once the time when I'd double down, order a shot and a beer, close my tab, and head elsewhere to try and make something happen......and wake up the next morning with no idea of what happened between 1215 and some random texts I'd sent post 2am and a cab trip home.....

...but instead, I sip my beer, brace myself for the walk to the car, and wonder how she's doing. I'm glad it's a mild winter but I feel the old familiar cold void as I make my way to the car.

I spent years wishing I could control my drinking. Now, I don't even have to try.
Go figure.

   - Yrs. in Christ