Late Night at Lucky's iv

This if the final of a series. Click here for the 1st.

Distractions were everywhere. Abigail was up at the bar. I couldn’t believe it. Start with how smashed she was when I last saw her, add the pint, the shot, and how ever many more pints and shots she had conned out of men in the meantime, and I figured she’d be home face-planted in bed. “You’re still here?” I asked in disbelief.
“Why? Do you not want me to be here?”
“Quite the opposite,” I said, “Actually I think you’re really cute.” A moment passed. What the hell was I doing? I didn’t know. I walked away.

Kevin was still up at the bar. He told me about some girl who’s number he got. “And she knows I’m only in town for a couple days,” he said.
“Awesome.” I replied, “Then she knows the score. I’m going to have a smoke, but I’ll have a beer with you when I come back.”

Laura and Eric were sitting on the sidewalk with their backs against the brick wall. So, I sat myself on the concrete and proceeded to enjoy the night. We didn't talk much.
"What was your name again? Erin?"
"Eric."
"Right. Eric."
Mostly we sat in silence enjoying the act of smoking – cigarette to mouth, breathe in, hold it, exhale. Do it again and again and again. Relax.

Then Kevin came out and announced the bar wasn’t serving anymore. Bummer, but we all knew that was coming. “Let’s all go get some beer, head back to my motel room, and keep on partying,” he suggested. I knew that wasn’t going to fly. Nobody really responded.
“I’m going to get a beer,” he said.
“If you wait till I’m done with my cigarette, I’ll go with you,” I replied.
He couldn’t wait. He was up and pacing. “How about I go get us four beers from that bar over there and bring them back.”
“I doubt they’ll let you leave with four beers. But if you can get away with it, go for it.” He stayed.

Soon enough it was time to go. Eric, Laura, and I got up and I gave them both a hug. I turned around, and as I walked away Laura said, “See you around John.” “Probably,” I replied and hoped and walked on with Kevin in search of more beer and hoped some more. We roamed the streets like hungry dogs, but it was too late. “The party’s over,” I finally conceded and we said our good-byes. “I come to Eugene all the time,” Kevin said as he took my number.
“Cool. Give me a call next time you’re in town and we’ll party.”

There was still a group of people in front of Lucky’s. I walked right through them. Onward ho.

A block away, out of a well lit alley came Abigail, stumbling about, lost, bombed out of her mind. She came at me with a smile on her face and I couldn’t believe my luck. “Oh,” she said putting her hand on my chest, “I thought you were my friend,” and started to walk on.
“I could be your friend,” I replied.
She stopped, turned around, and faced me, contemplating what had just been proposed. A moment passed, and I knew I had a chance. Then I heard someone shout "Abigail" from the direction of the late night Lucky’s group. Damn. “That must be your friend,” I said conceding my loss and she was gone like a vision in the night.

I stumbled home alone amazed how my mind could be as sharp as a tack, but my body couldn’t even walk a straight line. When I got in, I kicked off my shoes without bothering to untie them, I stripped off my clothes leaving a line of debris from the door to my bed, and plopped down on the beaten mattress.

The next morning I awoke feeling like my head was an ashtray overflowing with beer and cigarette butts. “Why do I do this to myself,” I asked. But I know the reasons why. I also know as soon as I get a chance, I’ll do it all over again.