I Quit
bill barr
I work the late shift at Split Sams but I quit. It's a real shit bar. Last night after closing, I went into the john to check for stragglers and a pretty girl was on her knees suckin' off a guy who was barfing over her onto the wall. It wasn't the blow job or the puking that alienated me. It wasn't the rot coming out of him splashing on the back of her shiny shoes and it wasn't that I could see his convulsions were exciting her. It wasn't that the dick in her mouth was the only thing holding him upright and it wasn't that these two freaks hadn't come into the bar together and it certainly wasn't that they wouldn't remember each other's fake names tomorrow. After forty years working shitholes like Sams, it wasn't that I hadn't seen things like this. I had. I stood in the doorway and waited until she brought her head up from his crotch so I could see the look on her face at the very instant she realized where she was and I quit because that was the only thing that ever helped me feel better.