Haven’t had anything to eat. Drinking drinking drinking. Beer wine wine wine wine margarita beer beer shot of whiskey, beer. I see a guy smoking a dab pen and I ask him for a hit. He gives me a hit. I give him ten dollars because I’m drunk and I’m sure he deserves it. I think he says “thanks” but I turn away because I’m drunk and I don’t know why I’m talking to him. I’m hungry. Need to eat. But I’m drunk and I don’t know how to get to the concession stand. Someone is smoking a cigarette. I smell it. Someone behind me. I turn around and see this big woman smoking a cigarette. I ask her if I can have one. She says “sure” and then gives me one. I say “thanks” and then turn back around. Cigarette hanging from my mouth. People playing music, hanging around on the stage past the cigarette. I ask the guy next to me for another drag of the dab pen. He gives it to me and I take a couple of long pulls and then give it back to him. Then I realize I didn’t pay the woman for my cigarette. I turn around. She’s still just as big as she was when I first turned around and saw her smoking a cigarette. She’s really big. Her shirt is stretched out over these doughy lumps on her sides. So big. I’m staring. Then I remember that I owe her money. I reach into my shorts pocket and find another ten dollars. I’m drunk and I’m pretty sure that I’m a famously rich author. New York Times Bestselling Author, Lou Rasmus. Everyone knows me and everyone knows that I’m rich and I can pay ten dollars for a cigarette if I want to. I’m also drunk. But I give the big woman my money anyway. She says that she doesn’t want it. I say that I’m famous and rich and drunk. She says “ok” and she takes my money. I turn back around and see that the band is still playing. That’s good. Music feels nice right now. That and the buzz. And the little bit of sunlight that hasn’t fallen under the earth yet. I see the cigarette in my mouth again and I feel my pockets for a lighter. Don’t have one. I ask the guy with the dab pen for a lighter but he says that he doesn’t have one. Then he hands me the dab pen and I hit it again. Still haven’t eaten anything. Crushed beer can on the ground next to me. There’s a full one in my back pocket. I forgot about it. Grab it. Then suck on it until it’s halfway gone. I’m gone. I think about asking the big woman for a lighter but I’m drunk and I don’t want to so I put the cigarette in my pocket. I think I’ll save it for later. The show is still going on and I want to watch some of it. Sounds good. Sounds good even though I’m hungry. Sounds good and I’m drunk.


13 responses to “Concert”

  1. Awesome: sounds like a good time!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. wrote this yesterday in a blur. great time

      Liked by 1 person

      1. I figured as much 😉
        How much do you actually remember? LOL

        Liked by 1 person

        1. really not much haha

          Liked by 1 person

          1. Yeah…. there are some bluegrass festivals I can’t really remember from my younger days when I dropped “too much” acid. LOL I hear ya

            Liked by 1 person

  2. Captured it!
    A concert of words!
    Dancing prose!
    Cacophony of imagery!

    Liked by 2 people

    1. damn. thank you very much


  3. Very entertaining. Sounds like me when I used to get drunk.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. haha thanks for reading


      1. You’re welcome 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

  4. Oh man, I remember those.. but with some shrooms tossed in.. :/ explains a lot I guess. 😉

    Liked by 1 person

    1. haha sounds like a good time

      Liked by 1 person

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