"Hey, mate. Hey, it's time to go."
"Huh?" I rub my barely open eyes and try to gather where I am. The glowing yellow light turns bright, filling up my irises with a horrible plight. "Am I still at the pub?"
"Yeah."
"What time is it?" I blink a couple of times, then turn towards the bartender. A fellow of about twenty-five with a pedophile-like mustache. He must be drunk, too.
"Well past two."
"Blimey. Everybody's left."
"Yeah. We only kept you since you weren't making any noise."
"Kept me for what? You some kind of Frankenstein people?"
"Nah, mate, haha."
"After work drinks, then?"
"Not tonight, I'm afraid."
"And here I got my hopes up."
"Sorry, mate."
I whisked myself on my feet. The place was spinning with every step, and I'm sure that guy was laughing all they, hiding it under his scrawny pencil-sketch of a fuzz. I didn't care. I wanted out of there. The question is, do I go home or do I do something else while I avoid my wife?
"Have a safe trip home," he says as I open the door.
"You too." With that, I left the establishment and went on my way somewhere.
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