Whisky on the rocks
I don’t know how long it is going to take now. It’s been almost an hour sitting at this bar table with this fellow who has shouted, "Yar!! Tu hain na asli dosth!" over ten times by now. I am glad he considers me so, but I am definitely not sure if he will stay straight without puking until I take him home. The bartender made another whisky on rocks for him and placed it on the bar table. "Another chicken wing for me, please," I answered to the bartender before he could ask me if I needed anything more. It is not that I do not drink. But today I knew that he needed a bad drink, and I would be the one to drive him home. Also, it’s been a long time since we've hung out at a bar after his new job. It feels good to sometimes travel back to the good old days. "Why is everybody obsessed with success?" Pratik spoke, stirring his glass. "I don’t know. Maybe success feels good to everyone." I tried answering. "yeah maybe.. I have another question....