Tipsy.

She pulls over next to an SUV and muffled to herself how people should invest in small cars and how she will buy herself a cruiser and how unfair she is to think that other people should invest in small cars when she's planning on investing in a huge ass off-road car herself. She smiles at the thought and shut the car door close.

It was a cold night. She thanked her past self for deciding to wear a cardigan as she sits at the booth. A small man walked up towards her and asked for her order. "Uhm, two bottles of SMB. The flavored ones? The one they showed in commercials? Do you have that? Like they have lemon and apple flavors. Do you have that?" She mentally rolled her eyes at herself by saying that.

You sound like a fucking newbie at this whole drinking stuff.

Well it's the first time I'm drinking alone.

That doesn't count you idiot. Gosh why are you so uncool.

She sighs at herself as the small man walked away with her order. "Kuya! Can you add an order of french fries as well? Thanks!" She settled down and breathed in her surrounding. 

She was listening to the woman who was singing an Adele song on stage and was mortified at the amount of veins showing up on her neck as she struggles to reach the high-pitched note. The woman didn't have to try too hard, unless maybe that was her job. Looking at the woman on stage, she thought of how it might be to have a passion as your job. She liked singing. She thought she's pretty good at it. She was almost too confident about singing that she decided to dial in numbers to an Alicia Keys song she likes to sing. She was about to stand up when the small man caught her attention.

"Ma'am we don't have the apple and lemon flavors anymore."

"Uhm, that's okay. I'll just take the premium then."

"Okay, Ma'am. Would that be all?"

"And add some iced tea. I don't really like beer."

The small man left and she sat there puzzled. She wondered why she went to a local bar that she thought was tacky, why she told the gas boy at the gas station to just charge it to her mom's account when she was longing for independence, why she settled for a course that was "practical," why she had to fix herself up every morning when she keeps telling other people that she doesn't care about how she looks, and how she ordered not just one but two bottles of horrible liquid that tastes like plastic.

Before her mind could come up with a valid excuse, the small man walked towards her with her order. In panic she might think again, she automatically pours herself a beer in one glass and mixed it with the iced tea. She sipped a little and smiled at what she has made. She was proud of how she was able to turn something horrid to something zesty and pleasing to the tongue. Now if only she could do that kind of wonder on rational living things.

She finished one platter of french fries, two glasses of iced tea, and two bottles of premium beer. She reminded herself of her alcohol tolerance by asking the small man for her bill. As she sat there waiting, she noticed two guys at a distance talking to a girl who was wearing an outfit that was asking for it. 

"I can see your bullshit from here." She said to herself. 

"I've taken up too much bullshit. I'm credible enough to be a walking bullshit detector."

She looked away at that image. That was her natural reflex. She looks away at things she doesn't like to see. It's like keeping your friends close and telling your enemies to fuck off because you're hanging out with your friends and it's not all about strategies.

A random guy sat at her booth and asked for her name. She was too tipsy to put up a polite front so she didn't respond. He asked him if she wants to join him and his friends at the other table since she was just alone and maybe needed some company.

Can't. Busy filing people under "Fuck this Shit."

"No, thanks. I'm about to go. I'm just waiting for my bill." She responded.

The man persisted but she wasn't really up for company, plus she was tipsy. The probability of her cussing at strangers was too high to risk it.

An ambulance then passed by with its siren so loud most people in their booths looked outside. Death. People are dying as of this moment and look at what I'm doing. She leaned on her right arm and tried to calm her palpitating heart which was the result of the alcohol. She felt like vomiting. She felt like smoking one stick but she promised herself she'll quit. She felt like she herself was dying.

The small man arrived at her booth. She paid for her bill and left. She looked at the guy who sat at her booth, smiled, and waved. She was at least grateful for the guy. For all she knows, if she said yes she would be expanding her social circle which her friends told her she needs. But no. She doesn't need another temporary thing in her life. At least not at the moment.

She sat there at the driver's seat and waited for something to happen. She was waiting to cry but nothing came out. She felt empty, which was much worse. There was a haunted house in her veins she longed for years to demolish.

Her thoughts came to a person. She couldn't dismiss it. It was like an untamed kiss shoved down her throat. But there are people you can't even allow yourself to think about, so she shut her eyes and massaged her head.

Don't feel so bad, lots of people are awful. Free the people you have trapped inside your heart.

She breathed a heavy sigh. Oh, Rhea. You sentimental motherfucker. She told herself.

She drove off, went home, and decided to open her computer. She couldn't pass this chance to tweet about being tipsy with actual relevance. There were tons of words bouncing around her brain which she respectfully credited to the alcohol that is now in her system. So she decided to blog.

Maybe one day her head will be clear again.

Maybe one day she'll come to her senses.

But today is not that day.