I'm Already Full of These Useless Stories...

Time is running out. I am running out of pages to post. This fifth one here is complete, but I have not yet completed the sixth. I may be able to get to the sixth one done by tomorrow, but I do not know about the seventh, eighth, ninth, etc. I don't even know how many pages this story will be. I have five more days left until this is due, so conceivably it could be about ten or eleven pages total. However, there is only one more scene I have to write (with some summary), so it could be shorter than that. I guess I can only try as best as I can and see how it turns out. Do not be surprised if a day goes by and I have not posted another page. I may have to keep posting pages after August first until the story is complete. I don't know. Enjoy page five.

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Damien was confused, "I thought you were paying."
"You didn’t get her number, therefore you have to pay."
"But you said that all I had to do was ask her, and I did." His voice steadily rose, despite Mary K.’s presence. Courage uplifted while the body made low.
"Well," a moment’s hesitation this time, no drama or philosophy, "I’ll pay you back. Can you get this one for me?"

Darius had never done this before. Darius was one for his word, albeit he rarely made a promise to anyone. If he told you he would do something, he generally would do it. Like the time that Damien had placed a bet on the San Diego Chargers in some play-off game. It was obvious that they would lose, given the history of the team with the opponent (Damien could not remember the team now), but he placed the bet anyway. Darius told him, "if the Chargers win, I won’t take any cut– you get the whole enchilada." The Chargers had won by one. A field goal in the last quarter– gripping, really. Damien didn’t have to pay for lunch that day, and he got all the money due to him.

Now that he had to pay, the blurry tab looked like $250, Damien felt confused, and all the more so because his head was reeling. He had lost. Mary K.’s eyes were dancing between the two guests, but her expression was flat. He conceded. He pulled out his wallet, a plastic card, and handed it to Mary K. who in one sweeping motion took it and walked away to swipe the card.
With that, Darius smiled, got up, and left heading right. He passed Hermes and some nudes bathing, down the great hall to disappear into greatness. He did not care where his bookie was going. Mary K. returned, smiling somewhat. She was certainly old enough now. He smiled. He sighed as he signed. He asked where the bar was.

"You’ve had enough."
"Well, I have been abandoned, so I will drink with abandon."
"Cute." She smirked. "Why don’t you go home?"
"I’m here for the Hold ‘em Tournament."
"Ah. Well, my shift ends in an hour. If you want to meet me afterward, I can show you around."
Damien didn’t fully realize the situation. He nodded.
"Where?"
"Just go out the hall, exit from there," she pointed to a door at the side of the building that Damien did not notice before, "and walk around behind the building."
"Okay...okay." She left him, and he was alone.

He stumbled to the place where he thought they would meet, and found her a hundred yards off, waving and laughing. He had found the bar in the meantime, and drank with the abandon of the zealot alcoholic, drowning the dream with the hope of a delirium tremens. Every sip made him hate this place more. Every sip made his dream more clear, and the world more blurry. Every sip made him and destroyed him. Every sip was billed to Darius.

"So you found the bar." She was smiling fully now, exposing perfect teeth in a perfect mouth, made less perfect by jaundiced eyes.
"You seem happy... to be off...of work."
She giggled. How old was she?
"Let’s walk around and sober you up."