Nakazaniye

I can't fully recall what happened after that. A large part of that day remains something of a black hole in my memory. I only remember not being so sure on how to feel about the situation as a whole. Losing my job, and all that. The downside to what had happened was pretty obvious. Once again, I screwed up what was supposed to be another fresh start. And this time around, it even took me less then a week to accomplish that. Although I speak to my defense when saying it really had been a boring and monotonous job. And one about which I didn't have a very good feeling right from the start.

The upside to my situation waited for me inside the envelope I received. With this amount of cash, I wouldn't have to worry about a lot of things that were bugging me before. For a brief period of time at least. I also considered these few bits to be a better option than starving to death while waiting for my regular paycheck. I didn't have a lot of actual ideas on what to spend any of my newly received money on at the time, but the right opportunity would most likely come around sooner or later.

When I got tired of trying to carefully consider my options, I think I took another trip to the liquor store. Once there, I bought another bottle of the white wine from the other day. Since there wasn't any special upcoming occasion to actually save it for, I figured I might as well kill the bottle on the go. After that, I kept strolling around the city halfway conscious. So like I said, I was kind of having a blackout during most of the afternoon and evening.

Some time around midnight, I eventually ended up back at the hotel. For unknown reasons, my eighty-five bits were now down to thirty. I don't even remember where most of them went. There's always the possibility that - against the better part of my memories - I bought some more expensive wine than I should have, but it wasn't very likely. Chances were, I simply got mugged or something.

Saturday went by without being ever eventful or anything. I spent some more of my bits on some decent food over the day, although I still went for the free breakfast in the morning. Without the coffee, of course. I didn't need any caffeine on the weekends, anyway.

Apart from that, I really spent most of the day just wandering around the city again. I didn't limit myself to a single street this time, either. My plan was to take a few more glimpses at Manehattan, hoping to somehow still change my less than favorable opinion about it. And of course I got lost several times, although I always got myself back on track one way or another. I even visited the Statue of Friendship, but the peek below her tunic didn't work, apparently. There wasn't anything there but dull, greenish copper plates. That bummed me out a bit. I went back to the city's mainland part with the next possible opportunity, about ten minutes after arriving on the small island.

As for the rest of Manehattan, I really couldn't find anything interesting to say. I'm not the sort pf pony with a very colorful imagination, but the city wasn't very colorful, either. Safe for the massive amount of horribly annoying billboards, the streets mostly merged into a boring gray. Most of them were flanked by concrete skyscrapers on either side, all of them looking alike. The only green spot in this homogeneous maze seemed to be a rather large park that was situated more or less in the peninsula's central portion. There wasn't any creatively shaped, individual name to it, either. I really didn't know what I expected.

By the time the evening rolled around again, I'd put a good overall distance of ten to fifteen miles or so behind me. My head began to get heavier with each passing minute now, and my legs felt incredibly soar. Even though the day was essentially wasted, I figured there wouldn't be any point in trying to do anything useful with the evening. I'd get a few drinks at a local bar, then call it a day. Simple as that.

Originally, I still wanted to purchase another edition of the Manehattan Times and look for a new job, but I decided to postpone doing so until Monday. It wasn't as urgent, anyway. After all, I still had some leftover cash to take care of myself. For two or three more days, at least. Whenever I'd go broke or near-broke, there would be more than enough time for me to get reasonable again.

The bar I ended up picking out was situated in a narrow alleyway, more or less close to my hotel. I only had to walk two or three blocks down the street, I think. That was somewhat important; going home after a couple of drinks could be somewhat dangerous in a place like this. But as long as it wasn't anything beyond a few blocks, I should be fine.

Still, I reminded myself that I'd like to keep it to one beer tonight. Not every day has to end in a disaster with stinging headaches, mind you. And I already had my share for this week, all things considered. There wasn't any need to embarrass myself in public any further. I really didn't need to do that, I kept telling myself.

Did I mention that I've got some terrible self-control? Because one beer only went by rather quick, and my glass ended up empty much sooner than I anticipated. Following that unpleasant surprise, I quickly came to disregard everything about my earlier attitude. That way, one beer turned into three, and three quickly became five.

I had wanted to stop after the fourth one, I really did. No matter what, even I sometimes realize when I've had enough of something. I'd have accomplished to quit my drinking for the rest of the evening, too. Or at least, I would have done that if it were only for myself to decide.

Unfortunately, the bar also hosted some random stallion and his colleagues from work that night. Apparently, he had earned himself a promotion earlier that day, and that needed to be celebrated or something. Just when I finished my personal number four, he announced the next round would be on him. Which included everyone in the room. And I never ever turned down a free mug of beer in my life. There's generally not many things I can be proud of, looking back. But this would be one of the few exceptions.

I don't know. Five it was, then. Paid for by somepony whom I never even met before. But someone who gave out free drinks couldn't be so bad a fellow. Probably. I really didn't know him, after all. Maybe he was somepony worth knowing. Or maybe just another moron. I couldn't say for sure.

Pretty much out of curiosity, I started introducing myself to one of his friends who was just getting a Martini from the bar. Given my intoxication at the time, that approach most likely went a little less elegant that I envisioned it. Still, he didn't seem to mind. He even figured he might get both of us a drink, then stick around and chat a little for whatever reason.

Often enough, I'm not myself when drunk. And that reflected on my current situation just as well as any. Like we agreed on, both of us stayed at the bar for a while, having another drink or maybe two. I don't exactly remember. I recall that at some point I noticed him being pretty attractive. For a city like this, I mean. Even though Manehattan males are probably no less disgusting than everywhere else. Maybe he wasn't even as good-looking, and that was just the alcohol talking.

In any case, I thought so at the time. One thing led to another after that, and we eventually ended up doing it in the males' bathroom. Somehow, these kinds of things always take place in the male section of pretty much anything. It wouldn't be possible with mares around; they'd be too grossed out or something. For reasons I didn't understand though, stallions didn't mind their fellow sausage-bearers going at it in each others' personal space. Or maybe that was just another misconception of mine, given from a lack of fully conscious experience. I didn't really care, either way.

He was pretty good at his trade, too. At least, he lasted long enough to get both of us satisfied. It's kind of sad that a simple thing like this automatically places a stallion above average. But there's also a lot of selfish jerks out there. Doing business with them usually results in having to flick the bean all by yourself for a good few minutes afterwards. I don't think there were any other times at which I hated myself or my life as much. Except maybe all the others. Or none. What's it to me, anyway?

When I came back to the hotel, I discovered my saddlebags lying in front of the entrance door. They had been flung open, making their contents spread out all across the eighth floor's landing. Counting all the items that were still there, I found them to be nothing short of what there needed to be. At least, nothing was gone that I hadn't lost already. Which didn't help very much, sine I still didn't have any idea why my belongings had been kicked out like that. And when I tried opening the door to find out, it wouldn't move. Somepony seemed to have locked it from the inside.

That was awfully strange. I could tell as much, even in my current, half-asleep state. Something was off; this door had never been locked, after all. I tried opening it with the key to my room, but it didn't fit. Mindlessly, I tried to push it in there a few more times, before I had to give up. All the while, my gaze was locked either on the key itself or the stupid wooden plaque and the number 213, which kept staring back at me like some sort of crazy serial killer or something.

I fell back onto my haunches, and kept sitting like that for a good five minutes or so, trying to sober up and figure out what had happened. When it finally came back to me, I remembered that some hotels had this weird policy where a week always started on Sundays. Which also meant that this day wouldn't be included in the week before, and not in the week's pay, either. It sounded strange in the context, but it also was the only explanation that made at least a bit of sense.

So, I'd been kicked out. Wasn't that just great. This is why I don't like Sundays. Anyhow...

Whoever treated their customers this way didn't seem to be in desperate need for them, either. There wasn't anypony around here to complain to, and I didn't. I gathered up all the belongings that still remained with me and stuffed them back into my saddlebags.

When everything was back where it needed to be, I gave the door one last, pointless glare and headed back downstairs. Before I left the building, however, the remaining levels of alcohol in my bloodstream caused me to spin around one last time and shout "So long, suckers!" at the top of my lungs. With a stupid giggle, I headed outside.

It started raining, again. Of course it did. It hardly mattered to me. I already decided this city wasn't going to be the place for me to stay. For some reason, I just wanted to leave right now, I don't know why. The rain probably didn't bring about my ultimate decision to skip town, but it most definitely was the final nail in the coffin. Marching back out onto the street, I turned to the right and headed back towards where I recalled the central station would be.

Since I didn't have anything better to do, I figured I might as well take a trip to Baltimare. I could pay a short visit to my parents, assuming they still lived down there. Although I probably wouldn't get myself to do it, in the end. Chances were, I wouldn't be able to gather the courage for that. If I had, I'd probably have gotten back together with them ages ago, instead of wasting all those years out west.

It's not like I explicitly missed them or anything. The only time I ever felt that way was right after I first ran off. But emotions or not, I thought it might be nice to get back together for a few days, or exchange some old memories. There would be something I could come up with. Maybe they'd even be glad to see me after all this time.

Or, y'know, whatever. I wouldn't get myself to see them, anyway. My argument didn't have to make sense. Besides, I still hadn't completely sobered up, either. When I arrived at the station, I bought the ticket to Baltimare, but I also doubted there would be anything useful to come off it.

My enthusiasm already received a minor bummer, when getting to know about the time my train was supposed to leave. They told me I had to wait until six in the morning, but I could do that. For all the terminal building was worth, at least the rain wouldn't bother me in here.

Apart from that, there were more than enough benches in this place. They looked pretty comfy, too. I approached one of them, seeing as how I deserved at least a few hours of rest.