"My sentiments exactly," I thought to myself. "
I'm sounding kind of angry, aren't I? I'm sorry--I'm really not like that, you know. My doctor says it's because I don't get angry at the right timese; instead, I hold it all in until it festers and boils and then I get sick or drunk or hurt somebody because I can't stand the reality of feeling pain. I guess he's right, in a way, and that's why I tend to drown it out with other things. This world is such a fucking mess, it's hard to see the forest for the trees sometimes."
"I know that's a cliche, fuckhead," I could almost swear I heard him thinking as he picked up on my thinly disguised smirk.
He then excused himself and headed for the men's room. I was about to overflow any minute, but I took the opportunity to change the tape over and check the batteries on my tape recorder. "Well, you've succeeded pretty well, so far, you idiot," I chastised myself, glaring at the forty-five minutes of nothing I had gathered so far. I waited patiently for a few minutes, then a hollow feeling began to form in my stomach. I glanced at my watch; fifteen minutes had gone by. "That sneaky fucker!" I mumbled under my breath, accidently knocking a t-shirt under black leather vest type off balance on my way to the restroom. He glared at me but I didn't have time to mess with him, so I just muttered "Sorry, pal," and tossed a five on the table, saying "Here, go get yourself a couple of beers." He held up the five-spot like a trophy and he and his buddies got a good laugh out of it. I stumbled the rest of the way to the restroom, and sure enough, the sucker was gone! I cursed myself again for being so stupid, Saw the open window through which he had deluded me, then, realizing any attempt to catch up with him would be futile, walked over to the urinal and emptied my bladder.