I last saw it sixteen years ago, still remember every detail of the watch.
I was on a road trip with friends. I don’t remember the city name; we just stopped because the bars looked inviting and, I think, because we saw a group of slightly underdressed girls walking into one of them.
A round of drinks; dance; a round; trying to chat up girls. It was a good night. One of the guys hit it off with a local girl in a short black dress; the rest of us watched from the safety of the bar. A horribly smelling guy walked past us. Somebody bought a round of tequila. I licked the salt; poured the hot and cold liquid down my throat; bit the lime. That’s where my memory ends.
I woke up at the side of a road. The hard sand below me was as dry as my throat. Continue reading