6/23/00 8:35 PM
Should be on my way to check out ----- soon at the C-Note; don't really want to go. Chance of getting anything from -----: around 5%. Chance of getting laid: around 1%. Chance of being glad I stayed home if I do: very low. So go.
Lost $475 last night betting on The Duke against Doorman. What a sap I am to think I can ever have the best of it. I keep saying I'm quitting gambling but then some opportunity arises like that one last night and I just dive right in there and get my lungs ripped out. I really can't take it anymore. I'm just soooooo sick of losing. Then this morning (afternoon, but hey, I was sleeping), ---- calls me inquiring about all the scores from the Weenie / Hot Dog / Mad Dog all-nighter last week 'cause Mad Dog claims he won like $2k instead of losing that much. I was sleeping and he was drunk... how the fuck am I supposed to remember every detail??? I really hate working there sometimes. Can't wait to quit. If I'm not gambling, it's a real hellhole.
I remember the Dinner Bell. What a hole, but I liked it. The owner was dry and somewhere behind the bar was a bottle of liquor, still half full, from which he had taken his last swig of alcohol twenty years before. I wonder how you could work at a shitty little bar like that and not drink constantly?
A dearth of email messages leaves me feeling lonesome. I need some nice company tonight. Some friends. Where are all my friends? Strewn across the entire planet, I guess. Here in New York, outside of the club there's ----- and I can't think of anyone else. Is that a good sign?