C'Est La Vie

the bar is crowded and the smoke tickles my nostrils i sneeze a few times then find a place in the front the band is a joke lead guitarist sticks to power chords except the rare occasion he noodles like an idiot on solos some old hipster eyeing me i look at him with a questioning stare "have a seat," he says two women to his side his friends crowded around in the bunker the round table shakes from shots landing and the kick of feet and laughter "what's your name?" he asks "val" i say and waft the smoke away "val... isn't that a girl's name?" his two drunken friends laugh "usually" i say and reach for a drink "why ya here val?" "to meet a friend" "a friend, huh... where is she?" "he" "you gay or somethin?" "unfortunately, no" i say with a sneer he doesn't like my tone, but continues "how long you been waiting?" "an hour" "an hour? he's not coming" "yeah, we'll see" "you're welcome to stay and drink with us though" "thanks, but no thanks" his eyebrows furrow at this and he leans over at me "look at this kid. doesn't have any friends. and when someone tries to be a little friendly he shows just why he doesn't..." his friends laugh harder, the two women sit uninterested "look, val. this is my world... where do you belong?" my thoughts go sour as i climb my way out clearing my head on the streets i make my way for the subway the walk is long and my feet are killing me a waste of a night as usual and thoughts keep going off in my head as usual the ride back is empty besides a big college kid and his girlfriend the entire time they are making out but every once in a while they look over at me and say with their eyes, "this is our world... where do you belong?"