I might go to the Great Notch Inn tonight and clear my head. I need to get away from the Wayne bars, the guidos and frat boys and women.... and specifically one. There are always places like that where I can retreat, hang out with a tougher crowd that is not concerned with appearences and the like.
The Great Notch is the size of a bathroom, but it has a porch on the outside where you can sit on warm spring nights. The inside is low and made of wood, and a huge man with long hair who looks like he's on queludes towers over the bar. We told him he looked like the Hulk once, and he smiled and flexed. There wasn't much to flex, because he wasn't muscular... just looked like the type that could throw you through a window if he really wanted too.
Somehow they set up a band in there, and they take up half of the floor space with their instruments. The parking lot is lined with Harleys, and the guys who sit there and drink are the kind that just don't fucking like to be bothered. And that's fine with me, cause today just ain't my day.
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See, you are what you are in this world, and that's one of two things.... either you somebody, or you ain't nobody
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