You have two opposing poles in Coloradoan cities. While many who have merely glossed the surface of the culture (such as it is) would immediately think, “Ah, Denver and Colorado Springs,” the truth is, it’s actually the cities of Grand Junction and Boulder. This is just a tidbit to show how far towards depravity my sights had fallen.

Perhaps it was just the third drink of the night. The first is just to whet things down, numb them a bit for the coming torrent. The second is to get your taste ready. The third is to drink. I’m a teetotaler when I’m by myself, but drinking is a social habit. The worst kind; some part of you thinks, “Oh, my friends won’t let me get snockered,” while your friends are thinking, “Alcohol cometh before the fall.”

Maybe it was the fourth. The fourth drink is the philosophical one. The one that asks, “Do I take the fifth, or do I do the responsible thing?” when the responsible thing was done after the first drink. You don’t see quite clearly, except maybe to the bottom of the glass. Or the bottom rung of the chair. Or the ceramic glossy bit of the toilet you might have missed if it wasn’t so big and round.

…and gaping like a hole straight into the aetherbits.

Really, I should have been a plumber.

I managed to wobble to the edge of the stall and throw in a piece of toilet paper. It just sat there on the surface of the water, like it wasn’t a maw straight to the underworlds. I considered kicking the toilet, but then considered that just rude. After all, it was just an innocent bystander. Something else had sat on this throne.

So to speak.

Sometimes someone’s sins need to be washed away, I supposed. “An end within an end, let it be,” I spoke some of the ritual words. I was having a hard time concentrating, what with a big vat of nothingness hanging…under me. The words started to do the trick; I could see the portal closing, when the drunken part of my mind reminded me…I still had to pee.

And so I did.

The second dumbest thing I did that night. Go to Boulder.

See, this was a bar not too far from campus. Kids, full of big ideas, minds wide open and ready for just about any little passing flit to possess them. To exacerbate, just add alcohol. Lower your resistance. Wobble into the darkness of a men’s bathroom and allow the passing of your liquids to be a shower of gold upon the altar of will…

Well, some people worship porcelain gods, anyway. You thought that was just a phrase?

So, yes, second dumbest thing I did that night. Pee straight into the aetherworld.

But that’s all water I passed under the bridge. Let’s go to dumb thing number three. Because dumb things, like many other situations, come in threes.

I wobbled out, feeling a little more sober. Which was good, because I managed to look straight at my ex-girlfriend three times before recognizing her. If I hadn’t been that together, I might have gone over and introduced myself.

“So, E.” She slid onto the seat next to me. I remember her legs. It helped that I stared at them in recognition, but they weren’t the kinds of legs you’d forget easily. They were attached to her knees and hips in some sort of fabulous manner. Not to mention the calves. The calves were hidden under boots, but I remembered them fondly.

“Up here, E.”

Oh, yeah. I moved to look at her like I was going to listen to her or something. I had never been good at that, which is probably one of the things that moved her to the “ex” category.

“Are you listening?”

Wait, I know this cue. This is the time to nod vigorously. OK. I did that.

“Good. Because I’ve got a problem. And it’s 37 minutes to midnight, which is when it becomes your problem.” She had witchy fingernails. I laughed at my little joke, what with the spells and all.

She snapped her fingers and I paid attention.

“I hate when you do that.”

“It works, doesn’t it?”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t hate it.” I sighed. I kind of liked being that drunk. Made me forget what the nymph reminded me of… especially combined with not having had a date for a few months.

“I thought Ed would be bringing you here. Look, I think we’ve got a demon.”

All hopes of being drunk faded. I looked at the melting ice cubes. “What do you want me for? You know I don’t do exorcisms.”

“I just want you to keep out its friends.”

I hate demons. This was sounding better and better.