By Moss at Verona on K road
I walked into Verona past the polynesian bartender making idle chit chat with a flame haired broad. She was guarding her icy beers with a watchful eye, they stood like identical twins languishing on the wooden bar. One of the glasses looked slightly shorter as it had been drunk from more. I wondered where the woman's partner had gone, the unknown mans thirst only partially quenched. Upbeat music was being played by a worn out dj propped up on energy drinks. He was fast approaching the end of his poorly attended set. I couldn't place the dj's ethnicity but he looked pleasant enough spinning his last lovesick song of the night. Outside the windows open at the front of the bar framed the drunken passerby's walking some happy, some beautiful, some lost deep in thought. Cruising to the back of the restaurant i found the loo hidden behind a heavily posted corner wall. The stall was remarkably clean, smelling of pine woods yet to be defiled. I was glad my gamble had paid off. Struck with bored inspiration I had ditched the line queuing up at Neck of the Woods. All the ravers on ecstasy or rat poison had suddenly needed to relieve themselves of the excessive amounts of water they had been drinking. I was rather glad not to be one of them as the toilet line was sprawling out for miles like the great wall of china. In a cunning ploy I had torn up the dimly lit stairs in my dark leather boots to get some fresh air. I then wandered down K rd walking slightly faster than usual and was rewarded with a vacant restroom awaiting my arrival. Sometimes things just pan out the way you planned them and it's a glorious feeling.
