I seen a guy in a 3 piece suit at a north shore house party,

I asked him for a cigarette and he denied,

I walked away,

He then started yacking off about the goals he’d finished,

Of bouncers giving firm handshake and right this way,

He told me this,

He went on about power and how people give it to you for status,

The status he had. Proposed he had,

Maybe he did,

He was in a three piece suit surrounded by gronks he was the man ov hour,

I was drunk and he was sober,

Why you here? I asked,

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

He didn’t say too much instead he engaged in a conversation with a male escort,

I asked him again with mild anger I was irritated,

Why are you here punk? I asked,

He didn’t look at me twice he just gazed in one stare and looked me deeply and drunk a drink,

Same reason you are kid. He spat,

I looked around and thought to myself,

Why am I here?

Then I looked for a clock but couldn’t find one,

Why am I here?

I looked to a friend who was unplugging a laptop and slid it under his jeans,

Don’t tell a soul, he told.

I kept my side of the bargain and we walked outside,

I was bent beyond relief but relieved myself behind a street lamp,

Old mate asked for keys and I chucked him the lot he unlocked the car and chucked the laptop in back.

I made my way over to the vehicle and parked myself inside the driver seat.

Old mate lit a smoke and offered me half, I declined.

We made way through the streets and through roundabout we smashed.

It was fun in the moment but not week later when paper came in mail.

I sped passed the cameras,

They caught my plates in flash.