Saint Christopher's Belly

"Hey, Faust are you ok?", calls a familiar warm voice.

Fausto sloppily raises his head from a drunken haze and tells the man who is calling for him, "Didn't I tell you to stop calling me that? I already don't like the fact that's my name but you gotta make it sound worse", Fausto says while shaking his shaggy black hair and putting his head in his hands.

"I personally think your name sounds pretty cool", say the warm voice.

"Paul, ya know what my name means, right? Faust is story about that guy who sold his soul to the devil for whatever reason. Fausto, on the other hand, means to be lucky and right now I think I am one of the least luckiest peoples in the whole, wide world", Fausto said as he took a swig of his beer. He tried to piece together the reason why he made the decision to spend another night drinking at his local pub, The Witches Brew, but thinking only made his head hurt. He rather not think, after all, that's the reason why he decides to come to these places with one of his close friends, Paul.

"Well, whatever Faust", said Paul as he also took a sip of beer, slightly fogging up his glasses whilst drinking, "I still think it sounds like a cool name, plus it managed to wake your ass up from falling asleep again. I'm starting to think that you went light weight on me fool."

"Lightweight? I drink more than you, I just do it faster than ya", says Fausto. "Yeah whatever, Faust!", chuckling says Paul.

"Anyways, I wasn't asleep... I was just thinking about why something like this can happen to me?", Fausto said as he began to play with the curls of his hair.

"It's not your fault, you know that right? The only thing that's your fault is bringing me here every night for the past 3 weeks since she left! You gotta learn to get over it man, it's time to move on. You're starting to make it into a bad habit", lightheartedly says Paul.

"I didn't know getting heart broken was a bad habit", tells Fausto as he puts his head down to table. His head is starting to began to hurt from the lack of continual drinking. "See Paul you'd understand if you actually talked to women", rudely says Fausto. "What?! I talk to women", embarrassedly says Paul. "Nah man I understand, you don't understand how to appreciate drinking like me because you haven't had your heart broken to a million pieces like I have. You still probably get random hard-ons and stuff. You're a growing boy, I know these things. I lived it", drunkenly says Fausto.

"We are the same age, Faust, you know that right?", says Paul. "Are we?", asked Fausto with genuine confusion, "Sometimes you remind me of an old man that was mixed with a young boy."

A waitress approaches the table and ask, "what's up guys? Do you want any more to drink?"

"No thanks, Sheryl. I think me and him would do fine with just water", asks Paul," I think it's time for him his nightcap anyways.

"I don't want no water, Sheryl can ya please bring me another beer please, oh pretty please? My head is starting to hurt from talking and not drinking", said Fausto with his cheeks glowing red from how much alcohol he has consumed. "Better yet, why don't you have a drink with us, it's been awhile since drank with each other, has it Sheryl?"

"I'd like to but I'm working , Fausto, maybe some other time", says Sheryl the barmaid. Paul looks at Fausto to catch his attention and to ensure that Sherly can sneak away before he orders more drinks, he ask's "What about we go back and drink at your place, that way we can leave Sheryl alone?" Fausto looks at Paul with an upset look, a kind of look that suggest he is about to start bitching but Paul quickly says, "You know it's a lot cheaper if we buy a 12 pack? One glass of beer here is like 5 dollars, but a 12 pack is only 10 dollars."

Fausto quickly grows a smile on his face and says to him, " Oh Paulie, Paulie my man, you know how exactly to speak to my heart, too bad you don't have any tits. Otherwise I'd be all over you or better yet, your lucky I'm not a woman!" Fausto obnoxiously laughs at his own joke, "I'd madly fall in love with you instantly."

Paul embarrassedly looks over to Sheryl and she immediately gets the signal to leave. "Alright you drunk, get up let's go to your place." Fausto's happy demeanor changes and with sadness in his voice he asks Paul, "Hey Paul, if it's alright, can you stay over at my place?" With a weak smile, Paul says to him, "Sure."

"Thank you, Paul. I appreciate you", says Fausto.

On the way back to Fausto's small apartment, they take a stop at a nearby mini-mart to buy something to drink. The fluorescent lights inside the market cause Fausto to grow nauseas, the constant bombardment of the neon lights make him feel like he is about to throw up. Regardless, he fights the feeling of his stomach turning all in the name of alcohol. The thought of a nice cold brew makes it seem like all the horrible, nauseating lights inside the store are nothing but an obstacle; One step closer to heaven if he is able to overcome this.

Paul and Fausto walk to the back of the market, where the alcoholic beverages are at and begin to peruse what's in stock. Even though just looking at beer makes Fausto happy, he is unable to speak from just how gross he is starting to feel. "More beer", is the only thing that pulsates in his drunken mind.

"Faust, what should we get?", ask Paul. Fausto turns his head to look at him and tries to open his mouth but immediately closes it. He feels the rush of something thick and hot making its way up his throat. Fausto holds in the feeling, even just breathing gives him the sensation of vomiting. He nods to Paul so that he won't have to open his mouth.

Paul opens the freezer door to grab a tall can and shows it to Fausto. "You remember these man? I remember these used to be our go to back when we finished high school. I'm going to get one, I don't think I've had one those since then," happily said Paul. Fausto looks at the can and notices that it was a strawberry flavored alcohol drink.

Since his early drinking days, Fausto's taste buds have somewhat matured to now only liking bitter flavored drinks. So when he laid eyes on a "sweet" drink, the sugary flavor started to manifest within his taste buds and unfortunately made his urge to vomit even more strong. Just the dense flavor of artificial sweeteners was the final blow to his stomach, now not even more beer can save him.

Paul notices that Fausto isn't looking ok and ask him, "Are you feeling alright?". Fausto shakes his no, then proceeds to throw up all over himself.

Paul jumps away to evade Fausto's projectile vomit but he watches in horror as splatters of brown and yellow liquid land on his shirt; one of his favorite shirts. Paul makes a weird yelp and the cashier, noticing the commotion yells all the way from the front of the market, "Is everything ok back there?!"

"It is now!", yells back Fausto and chuckles to himself. Paul still disgusted says to him, "Thats gross man, why did you have to throw up on me? You still have all that mess on your face."

"I'm not planning on kissing anybody tonight so what's the point, huh. Let's get getting before they come back here and find all this throw up", says Fausto. The two men quickly get a random 12 pack and make their way to the front to pay.

Fausto still covered in vomit asks how much it will cost him. The cashier is a young kid, probably 16. Just the sight of Fausto makes the kid uncomfortable but he tries to keep his cool. "You're total will be 12$ and 84 cents", said the kid, trying not to look at Fausto.

Fausto hands him the money with a bit of vomit stuck to his hand. Fausto asks the cashier, "How old are you, kid? How are they allowing you to work so late at night? I remember when I was your age I wasn't allowed to be out this late."

Paul grabs his shoulder and says, " Come on Faust."

"Hey wa did I tell ya about calling me that, you jerk!"

Paul helps Fausto and looks over to the cashier, "Thank you, have a good night."