Musings of a High School Vampire: August 15

Last night, your favourite friendly neighbourhood predator sat in the dark, on a high courtyard wall that backs onto a main street, and watched the world stagger by.

 It seemed an extensive selection of the local populace were having a ‘big night out’.   Strike that.   A fucking huge night out.   Jonathon dangled his legs over their heads as they stumbled under his wall, and considered the human condition.

 

Curtain opens: two older guys reeling along – they both looked like a wash and sobriety were things of the long distant past for them.   One takes a piss further down against my wall, the fucker.

A carload of squealing teenagers screaming out incomprehensible things, swerving a bit across the road, and waving various appendages from the windows.

One sad girl, stumbling, weeping and texting at the same time, with mascara running down her cheeks and wearing eau d’alcohol that I could smell even from up on my perch.

A trio of unrelated and extraordinarily drunken women crossing in the other direction, giggling and holding each other up, with both their dignity and their designer shoes in tatters.

Interval.

A taxi pulling up down the road for an angry friend to roll a slurring, close-to-vomiting dude into.   He slams the door on the offender so violently it echoes over the other traffic.

One random elderly guy staggering across the road, in defiance of traffic lights and oncoming vehicles.   He makes it safely across, this time.

A quartet of kids with well-used skateboards and recently-purchased vodka zooming past on the sidewalk, having coaxed the man in the corner shop to make the sale.   They have noisy plans to recreate various reckless but seriously cool stunts they saw on this awesome dvd…

And for the finale, two lovers having a outstandingly ferocious yelling match in front of a bar which ends in him pushing her and her slapping him, and a host of equally drunken friends spilling out into the street ostensibly to intervene, but mostly as blood-sport spectators ie. to watch the entertainment, pass judgement, and try and avoid throwing up again in the gutter.

 

Better than the fucking theater, people.   It was all soap-opera and Shakespeare, nauseating and hilarious, contemptible and pathetic, but a total human train wreck you can’t look away from.   I fucking loved it.

And I like the vindication, too.   Now, I enjoy a nice drop or two of a good red, as you know – but I reckon my chosen beverage and method of distilling it ends up being a lot less bloody damaging and dangerous than the shit I saw playing out last night – no kidding!   I sat up there on my moral high ground and laughed myself hoarse at the violence and mayhem, and erupting, vindictive human emotions that I didn’t even cause.   Plus, of course – thanks there, my personal ‘reality show’ cast.   Your over-indulgence tonight makes you slow, confused, vulnerable, gullible – and an obvious target.

I’ll let you decide which ones didn’t make it home.   Amusingly enough, only one was my fault.

 

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