Story I am working on

              When we got to the party it was about thirty people all standing in a gravel covered backyard slash parking lot behind an apartment.  There was a group of guys I knew shot gunning beers in the bed of a truck, a small group of  young professionals in one corner drinking cocktails and talking about fantasy football or whoever’s wedding they were going to that weekend, and at the far end of the lot there was a beer pong table and the four people who I knew played beer pong everywhere they went.  I wondered why these people were all still friends and then also wondered why I was friends with them.  After I locked up my bike I hopped into the bed of the truck with my cohorts to a rauckus cheer.  One of them handed me a bottle of Evan Williams and told me to do work.  I tipped the bottle up to my lips and took a long drink.  When I was done I coughed and said geek geek gah damn and passed the bottle on and said do work. 

                The sun has gone down and I am in an alley urinating on a trash can.  I can still hear the party even though I walked about a half of a block to find my perfect bathroom.  The moon is full and I look up at the big son of a bitch as I sway.  My back hit’s the fence behind me, which causes some mangy old dog to have a hissy fit.  It barks and snarls I zip up and growl and bark back at it letting drool fly from my mouth.  After awhile I realize I am fighting a pointless battle.  I begin my retreat towards the party noises.  My walk is swift and purposeful but the alcohol makes it look like I am falling towards something.  When I get back there is a large group of people all singing along to a song we all know.  I don’t feel like singing so I go over to a group that is smoking and ask to bum a cigarette.   I center myself and say the same trying not to sound or look too drunk.