WHO: Michael Guerin and OPEN WHAT: Drinking and wondering when he turned into Max WHERE: Lou's WHEN: Saturday evening, late WARNINGS: TBD STATUS: Open/Ongoing
Michael was disgusted with himself, or at least he wanted to be. Meeting that guy at the bar, he'd felt like Max, being all prudish and judgmental. He wanted to feel bad about that. He felt that he should be cheering the guy on. But the truth was that the guy was a total dick. Sure, Michael'd had uncountable lovers of both sexes, but he respected them. Even the ones he could barely remember. He'd never tried to use pick-up lines. He'd never tried to be a 'player.' He slept with people who wanted to, and who knew exactly what they were getting into. And he respected their pleasure as much as his. In fact, he didn't feel the night was a success unless the other person enjoyed it as much as he did. He had a feeling the douche he'd met in the bar didn't give a shit.
Still, he couldn't help but feeling like Max, and that was never something that he wanted to feel like. Ever. So he was at the bar, drinking, trying to get that feeling out of his mind. Yeah, yeah, maybe he was a much better guy than he let anyone know. Sure. Fine. But he didn't really want that to be public knowledge.
He knew last call was coming soon, but he wasn't going to leave until he was kicked out, so he ordered another beer and started on it. He wasn't really drunk yet, but the tipsy feeling was a relief.