Essay by candylandcutieHigh School, 11th gradeA, January 2007

download word file, 3 pages 0.0

It started out as a gag, I'm sitting at the bar minding my own business, which was drinking up a storm, when this guy started talking to me. David was his name, David Cohen. Big, tall-dark, and handsome type; I figured him to be around twenty, same as me. He was belting it pretty good himself. So right off we had something in common. David told me he was the assistant manager of a department store that his father owned, and also was a second year English literature student at the University of Waterloo. But talk about coincidence turns out he broke up with his girlfriend of three years a month ago, exactly like me. Which is why we both ended up in the bar every night, at Happy Hour time. Two drinks for the price of one isn't a bad deal, not when you're trying to cut it with just the student loans the government gives you.

"She totally fooled me" David said. "My ex-girlfriend wiped me out good, she took most of the furniture and she got the car that we bought together, so I basically wind up with zero, it almost feels like I got a divorce." "I know what you mean" I told him. "Gets to the point when you want out so badly you figure it's worth anything. But like the old saying, sometimes the cure is worse than the disease." "This is my cure," David said, finishing his scotch and ordering another round. "Trouble is, it doesn't work.

David suddenly stood up fast, "where are you going?" I asked. "Come along and see," he said. Five minutes later I'm watching David use his night-key to unlock the back door of the department store. Ten minutes later he has me sneaking around outside...