I don't really have anything new and fresh to write about, so i guess i'll start by telling an old story about the hopeless endeavor known as the long island bar scene:

At the karaoke bar on Friday, I did two songs, Metallica's "Turn the Page" and STP's "Plush." I later found myself alone at the bar drinking a Bud Light. The guy next to me, who introduced himself as Jack, told me that the girl to my left had looked at me twice, and that I should talk to her. I politely declined, telling Jack that I'm not the type of guy who picks up girls at bars because I'm far too shy. He asked me how old I thought she was. I took a glance at her and said 20. He then asked how old I was, and I replied with the truth.

"Well, I'll bet you she's 22, just like you," he said.

"Oh yeah?" I said. "What do you want to bet me?"

"A beer. If she's 20, I'll buy you a beer. But if she's 22, you owe me one."

I agreed to the terms. I knew I was right because ever since I was young I was really good with determining people's ages just by looking at a subject. This girl, who was wearing a tiny denim skirt and tight black shirt, was no exception.

Jack got up to ask. I give this fool a lot of credit for being so straightforward with people. If I was him, I totally would not have talked to me.

15 seconds passed, and Jack came back, this time with the girl. He presented her to me as Ashley or Melissa or maybe even Michelle. I'm not entirely sure. He also said that she was indeed 20 years old, so he owed me a beer.

"Budweiser, please." I said.

Jack got me the beer and left me alone to talk to the girl. It's been a long time since I was in a situation like that, if at all. I started by saying that even though he introduced me as his friend, I've known Jack for about 6 minutes and that we're not friends and I'm sorry if he bothered her. She picked up my honesty and accepted the apology. We talked for another 10 or 15 minutes after that. She was an outgoing girl, who at some point, reacted to my jokes with genuine laughter. I met her friends. One was definitely named Beth. I don't remember the name of the other one, who looked moreso like my type because she had blonde hair and was wearing glasses.

I was among the three of them when Jack showed up again.

"I apologize, but I have to leave. Take care and God bless. I can see a definite future in the two of you."

I rubbed my forehead tensely, covering my eyes in embarrassment. The girl was a good sport. I apologized again.

"It's ok," she said. "But I should tell you that I have a boyfriend."

I don't know why, but I was somewhat crushed. But I said that was fine and wished her the very best of luck. The girls left after that. I turned around to get the support I deserved my friends only to see that they had all left.

My phone vibrated: A text message. It was from Rob. "Hey I left and I think Glenn left too so good luck with the ladies and call when you leave."

I did that. No answer.

I walked out of the bar and began walking towards home, knowing full well that I wouldn't make it because of the distance, but at least it was something to do while I called everybody in my phone book to try and get a ride. Either nobody answered or nobody could help me because they were in Albany or sleeping or something. I ended up walking the entire distance, which Mapquest said was 4.47 miles. It was a miserable journey. I kicked parking cones over and ripped apart Caution tape at construction sites. I stopped at a pub on Jericho Tpke. and had another beer. I enjoyed a blue Gatorade at the BP gas station and tried to make small talk with the clerk, small talk I can't remember. I got to my house at 4:18 a.m., about an hour and 40 minutes after I left the karaoke bar. Stripping down to my boxers, I passed out on my childhood bed.