Counting Trains  

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I'm posting this now, before all my braincells stop working. I just feel too tired to write right now. Say it again, "write right". Boohoo. 

Yesterday, a friend of mine celebrated her birthday. It was fun, for the most part, and it became sort of a mini-reunion for me and one my fallen colleagues. The place was near a train station, and all the revelry was held just a few feet from the tracks. No kidding, anybody who's seen Final Destination would have thought twice about sitting with us that afternoon. Every now and then, a commuter train would zip past us with horns blaring and we wouldn't have a care in the world. It was a peculiar sight, now that I think about it, to see a table full of party-goers at such an odd and potentially dangerous location. Maybe I really do love living on the edge. 

Not the actual location, but close enough.
Train after train passed by, and the heavy shower that drenched us hardly dampened our festive spirits. I watched as passengers and onlookers stared quizzically at us while we were throwing back glass after glass of ice-cold beer. I seriously would've stayed longer if not for the fact that I had to go to work later that night. 

Yes folks, you heard right. I - the beer-guzzling gorilla from China - walked away from a party because I had to go to work. Can you believe it? 

Can you spell "self discipline"

The Binchee, The Captain, and The Love.


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Stories from the Simian Crease by Binchee is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Philippines License.
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