A Short Story
My Best Bukowski
from 
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JoeUser Forums
“Life Is Okay,” John thought to himself as he took a long pull off his beer, “As long as the bottle looks half full.” This was the way that got him through the day. Having to deal with basic tasks for him was never any fun; too predictable, too mundane, too everybody else’s way. John enjoyed walking his own path, or for better terms, wobbling his own path and falling into the ditch many of the times. Life was more exciting this way, and that was what John enjoyed, excitement, or at least unpredictability. That was the way to enjoy life. Of course most of the excitement was brought on by the bottle. That was John's first love.
“Fuck you.” John heard a woman’s voice screech, only to be followed by the sound of glass being shattered against the wall of his small apartment.
“You’re a fucking waste, the scum of the fucking street.”
John lifted his face from the floor and wiped the drool from his cheek. He took a glance around and realized that he had once again found a place to sleep on the wooden floor in the middle of the living room. He checked his head and looked up to see none other than his, what she considered girlfriend, standing above him, hands on hips and a stern look on her face.
“If I’m such a fucking waste, than what keeps you coming back.” John replied while squinting from the sunlight creeping in through a crack in the shade.
She walked away and John found his way to his feet and headed for the table that sat in the corner of the room, sparked a stale cigarette and took the last pull from a beer he had abandoned the night before as he settled in with the thoughts for the day.
“Fuck you.” John heard a woman’s voice screech, only to be followed by the sound of glass being shattered against the wall of his small apartment.
“You’re a fucking waste, the scum of the fucking street.”
John lifted his face from the floor and wiped the drool from his cheek. He took a glance around and realized that he had once again found a place to sleep on the wooden floor in the middle of the living room. He checked his head and looked up to see none other than his, what she considered girlfriend, standing above him, hands on hips and a stern look on her face.
“If I’m such a fucking waste, than what keeps you coming back.” John replied while squinting from the sunlight creeping in through a crack in the shade.
She walked away and John found his way to his feet and headed for the table that sat in the corner of the room, sparked a stale cigarette and took the last pull from a beer he had abandoned the night before as he settled in with the thoughts for the day.