At the bar...

I think I had gone to the bathroom. I don’t not remember. I just remember that the lines was big. The bar lines at the bathrooms are always big, even four or five people are inside. There are five others wanting to get in here. All that time I took because sometimes when I went to the bathroom, invariably touched the wall there was a time out and watching people going in and out, all astonished, a bohemian kind of tingling.

When I returned to my beer and my world is strictly private to my world in a safe corner of the counter, I noticed the look frightened and embarrassed by my friend. Just that I followed his gaze to understand why. His wife outta onstage rubbing the guitarist. I think I felt even more embarrassed than he. She looked to where her husband was and smiled luxuriously as women when they want to provoke the demons in his men. The guitarist was also embarrassed, but he chose not miss the opportunity. The other guitarist was also approached and kissed his neck. I wanted to say something, something like "this crap're never cold beer, right?" But I could not say anything. I could even get near him. I was by far the sidelines, praying pro coach there and do not forget my request entry into the field.
People in the bar seemed to enjoy the performance of my friend who was drunk as, being applauded and encouraged, seemed to grow more comfortable. People tend to applaud that kind of attitude. Must be some kind of revenge, I can never understand. Some friends came to him on a Tuscan or to show solidarity as they usually do some "friends", mocked even more bad luck the guy without him noticing it's happening, of course. And he really talked to them as if nothing had happened. Out of the corner of the eye still peering into the stage. The band struck up a sexy blues, which made my friend opened a smile out of this world. She is now tacking in front of everyone (just popped into my ming that I have work to do, I have to convert pdf to excel, now continuing…)

My friend bowed his head and left. I was holding my glass of beer in hand. At that time the beer was already hot as hell. When my friend noticed that her husband had left, his face was full of sorrow more true. It's as if nothing had meaning in life. She bent down and sat on the edge of the stage. The band kept playing. I went to the door of the bar. Outside, my friend talked to some people trying to hide her sadness. Inside my friend could no longer hide shit.

Contrary to what they say, the night does not usually accept people more sad and lonely.