Beer At Hand

It was raining. Its hard to tell if the downpour would continue or not. The night is young, she'll have all the time to decide later, she thought. With great care she started to curl her hair all the while planning her make-up and clothes for the night. Bronze eye shadow with gold highlights, bronzer, mascara and lisggloss. Diamond earrings suspended on long silver strands end just atop her shoulder. Four inch heels. Denim minis. Perfume.

The transformation's almost always too radical even for her taste. The night changes everybody, she'd almost always reason out. She feels the guilt of being so different from who she really is.

" Look at us we’re beautiful,
All the people push and pull but,
They’ll never get inside,
We got too much to hide"

She could almost laugh as Moby sang his lines. The beautiful are those who hides their flaws the hardest. She loves the thought as much as he hates it. The glitter and noise makes her forget what's screaming inside but she's afraid the spotlight would shine through her.

Shining and glossy, she stepped out and disappeared under the now waning drizzle.

The night started once she stepped inside. Lights dim, people chattering over bottles of beer, the band oblivious that no one's really paying attention...and then they saw her. Their unanimous cheer lighted her face. Kisses and hugs were exchanged and more bottles were ordered.

"I missed you."

"Good thing you got here on time."

"How have you been? Are you stil with that guy?"

"Are you seeing anyone new?"

"I heard you're single again?"

"Here, another bottle. You want anything else?"

"Is she coming too? Maybe we should call her just in case she forgot."

"What do you think of my date? She's not you but hey, you're the greatest. look at you!"

"Why aren't you with anyone? You should invite someone next time."

"Sit here with me will yah, I gotta ask you something."

"My golly! Those shoes are wonderful, where'd you get them?"

Without the make-up on, life seems unfair and crooked. But when the sun sets and the clothes come off...life is much, much bearable. Forget that she hates the taste of beer, forget that she hates smoking, forget that she hates the noise, forget that she hates staying up late...all these makes life bearable. And she's grateful.