The Rat

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2014-09-01 01:50:12 (UTC)

Good Guy Bad Guy

Never liked it here anyhow. It always smelled but the booze was cheap. Being a regular anywhere is something to frown upon. Most people probably disagree. Every single day though it's the same thing. Order a drink. Cough outside while I smoke. Watch a TV should'a been thrown out long ago. Nobody smiles at you except the occasional tourist who wanders in. Their smiles are always unreturned.

Me? A bad guy? Maybe associated with the sort. There was that one time...just forget about it. A man makes mistakes but it's taking responsibility that makes him a man. A person who makes mistakes without consequence is a dog. A stray.

After polishing off another, the puke started to brew in my insides. The bathroom was full of shit in every seat and that made it easier to let out what I had just spent 60 bucks letting in.

Still drunk and walking home, across the street something funny seemed to be happening. Some sort of fight between two young guys. Being a man of curiosity, listening seemed to be the only option.

"What are you looking at?" One young man yelled.

He seemed to be holding something. Probably a weapon but who cares, the vomit didn't empty all the alcohol from my system and I was feeling a little enraged.

Upon approaching, the blurry object became much clearer, a knife. Whatever. Worse things could be involved. All the while, he kept watch on me.

"What are you doing?" he asked panicking while his victim stood motionless. This poor man holding out a stack of cash alongside his wallet.

"Give me the knife." The words left through confident lips, like they always do when alcohol enters them.

He refused.

A swift reach into the denim jeans so worn out they could have belonged to the homeless, exposed to this thief a gun. Rock, Paper, Scissors, Gun, Knife. He knew who won.

The knife was mine now. The thief escaped after apologizing extensively.

"Thank you!" Said the man with tears in his eyes, "I have a family and we just barely made rent and I need this money desperately. You are an angel!"

"You are very welcome," But once again, deep into those denim pants, the gun came out and pointed, "But give me all your money. Wallet too."

Me? A bad guy? Maybe associated with the sort. There were those two times...just forget about it. A man makes mistakes.