"Take my money" is all I think. He looks at the earring. "Fag" he mumbles. I don't mind, he's fat. No one likes him. Life's too short. I pass a table of black girls with short hair. They look like men. They all look the same. I can hear the strobe now, it's loud. And the music's too bright. I look for my friends, but I can't remember if I came alone or not. Doesn't matter, though. There's hundreds of people who have waited all their lives, no doubt, to be my friend. And as I near the bar, I see two persons eating each other's faces. I bark to the bartender. He gives me a placebo. I'm so "young" he tells me, "to be here." I nod and swallow the bland drink. Then I stumble several times near a crowd, and they think I'm a good dancer. I hear a girl tell another girl that some girl she knows watched a girl puke in the toilet. I smile in their general direction. The good-looking one comes over and bites my cheek. It hurts, and I start to hit her, but she's grinning, and I can see my blood on her teeth. And I pull her to me. "My place or yours?" "The gutter will be fine" she confesses. As we walk out, she takes another bite from my cheek, and I smile at the fat man by the door.