The day was finally over and I needed a drink so I decided to ping my buddy Erik. Erik was one of my true friends at the company, someone I actually trusted and one of the few people I could depend. We had met prior to IT. Erik was an analyst at the call center when I started with the company. He was a likable person and had a unique charm with the ladies. To be quite honest his reputation was notorious. The call center had a high turn over and 80% of the population were females under 30. For someone like Erik it was like fish in barrel. In fact at the peak of his sexual exploits the director of the call center had to have a “talk” with Erik. His love life was having a negative impact on the call centers performance. I’m not sure what was exactly said, but basically he was asked to stop fucking so many of the girls. In his defense he never lies to these women to get them into bed. He’s a confident guy and I think that goes a long way with the ladies, but I once over heard someone say it was his “ten inches” of personality that gets them into bed. It was a few minutes past five so I sent him a text message, “ebar?” He replied, “sure.” It never really took much to get him out. As I said it was a long day and these days I was never in arush to go home. I quickly shut my laptop down, undocked it, and I was out. Once in my car I texted Marie I was working late. Sadly it had become a habit of lying to her. Looking back to these I admit I was a coward and somedays I just didn’t want to deal with her. I took the long way to the bar so I’d have time to smoke. As a stoner you learn to take the side streets. In direct routes of side streets are the safest when smoking. One it is less likely to see a cop or a co-worker and two it gives you more time to smoke. Erik’s car is already parked, and I know he is going to give me shit for keeping him waiting. He knows I smoke. I don’t think he judges me for it, but he does like to give me shit for it. “It’s about time fucker”, he says as I walk to our usual corner table. “Traffic was a bitch”, I reply. The bar is only a few miles from work so we both know that a lie. The waitress sees me and instinctively brings me a long island ice tea. It’s our go-to drink, and during happy hour it’s the quickest and cheapest route to numbing my thoughts. Being a regular at bar has its perks although I sometimes joke with myself and ask does the fact that I know every waitress and bartender by name indicate I have drinking problem. We spend a few minutes lamenting about our days before he gets a text. “Who is that?” I asked. “Is it Long Beach Lori or Whittier Wendy?” I continue. I just like to fuck with him. Erik still has a revolving door of women coming in and out of his life and he has employed unique memory device so as not to get them confused. Essential in his cell phones contact list he adds a prefix to their name, usually the city or location where they met. Before he could provide a witty reply to my inquiry my phone starts ringing. It’s Marie. It’s already after six and she’s strarting to get suspicious. After about the third missed call I tell Erik, “I will be back. I have to take this.” “Hi, you called?”, I ask. “Where are you?”, Marie replies. “I’m in the parking lot walking to my car”, I quickly say. She knows I’m lying. Women always know when I’m lying, and I know I’m a horrible liar. I tell her I need to go to school for few hours and will be home late. She has no compassion for my mothers illness, and I need to decompress. That how I rationalize it to myself. With Marie dealt with I walk back into my bar where I find Erik talking to one of our favorite waitresses, Megan. “Hi Megan”, I say as I sit back down at my stool. “Another one?”, she asks. I answer,”Yes please.” She’s so cute, and bubbly. For a moment I fantasize about being with someone who is so bubbly and perky. Even when we were in high school Marie was never what you would call bubbly. Erik and I spend the next few hours drinking and casually flirting with Megan. I know this is an escape and I’m self medicating with weed and alcohol, but my mind needs a break.