Patty's Bender

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SKID ROW
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--Patty
Her jeans now irrevocably stained with alcohol-tinged vomit, Patty had promised to meet Alice later after going home and changing. Home, of course, was nowhere. She had a bike stashed on a side-street and she had a duffel bag of clothing scrounged here and there. Shelter, a place to lay her head, that was harder to come by. It was even more difficult when you somehow seemed to alienate everyone by being yourself.

"Be yourself. What a fuckin' crock." She dabbed at the stain, trying to remove the larger chunks before giving it up as a bad job. An ice pick right behind the eyes, that's what it felt like. Not like someone jamming it in there. No, it was just a slow push until it was unbearable. She was too young to be drinking that hard, that fast. Hell, she was too young to be drinking, period. It helped quite down those incessant thoughts intruding on her day and night.

"What a fuckin' star you turned out to be." Sometimes she'd voice them, just to keep them from popping back into her mind for a while. Some of the harsher ones, the ones she couldn't bare to hear, they remained inside. her head.

--Patty
Ditching her jeans in the sewer, and tossing her panties for good measure, she manages to get less soiled, but still smelling strongly of booze. As with all her great decisions, hard drinking required hard driving, and Patty decided she needed to get on her bike and out of town, or at least out of Skid Row.