"I want to see other people."
The words eternally echoed in his mind compelling him to down another shot to drown out the sound. As the drink passed through his mouth, burning his throat, the words rang louder and his anger grew. "I thought this would make me feel better. Shouldn't I have forgotten that stupid bitch by now?" He thought as he gulped down another shot. Like a banshee, Pepper's words screamed louder in his head. Tony's head began to pound, his face turning a deep red.
Two more shots and the voice faded, sinking into a deep dark sea of suppressed memories of the night before: the argument, getting kicked out and that muscular butch with the black Mercedes. Although he had forgotten why he was angry, he was still pissed off.
He grasped the miniature glass tightly, smashing it within his palm. Small shards of glass sliced into his callused skin. A stream of blood slowly travels down the side of his hand.
"Hey buddy, I think you've had enough." A deep, husky voice grumbled. Three seats to the left of Tony sat a large brawny man hunched over the counter holding glass of whisky in his right hand.
Loosening his grip, Tony beckoned the bartender. "Ronald! Anuh-Another one." He stuttered, waving his bloodied hand at the bartender. Noticing the blood flying off Tony's hand, Ronald shook his head and tossed Tony a cleaning cloth.
"Wrap that shit up, man. I can't have you bleedin' all over my counters." Ronald shouted spraying the blood with bleach.
Smacking the bottle out of Ronald's hand, a look of contempt crossed Tony's face. He grabbed Ronald by the collar of his tacky Hawaiian shirt and pulled the man toward him with great force. He balled his left hand into a fist as it rushed straight to Ronald's wrinkled face, his blow was interrupted by the strong grip of a large hand with thick hairy fingers. Leaning his head toward the left, Tony saw the hand extend from a muscular arm covered in dark hair and red flannel. His eyes shifted toward the face of the hairy man. He looked into the dark brown eyes embedded into a solemn expression. A dark beard, dusted with gray strands covered the bottom half of the man's face, exposing a thin, pink lower lip.
Tony inhaled deeply through his nose and released the frightened bartender as he exhaled.
"Fella, you ought to head on home, and clear your head before you get yourself in trouble."
Tony turned toward Ronald, looking at his blood stained shirt then shifted his eyes down at his own lacerated hand.
"Pathetic," he thought.
Not meeting the big man's gaze, he nodded and shuffled toward the exit.