Paul held his pool stick and aimed with the utmost precision. His left eye was level with the table and he saw the shot lined up perfectly. Beads of sweat trickled down his hardened face. Steve, his partner, watched on nervously. Their friends, Chris and Albert, were playing against them, and they (Paul and Steve) were getting the shit kicked out of them. Paul finally took his shot - and missed. And cursed. And banged his fist upon the table.
"You suck, Paul!" Albert exclaimed. Paul looked up at him, waiting for the angst to subside. "Oh, shut up," he mustered. Chris grinned. "Wanna just forfeit now?" Steve stood in a super hero-like manner. "I'd sooner take a dick in my mouth!"
Paul quickly stepped away from Steve. "What he said," Paul uttered weakly. Soon, however, the game lost its relevance. The friends got drunker and they eventually started to leave. Chris and Albert declared that they had to get moving, and since they only lived a good five minutes from the pool hall them walking was perfectly reasonable.
In fact, all four of these friends lived in the same real fuckin' nice town. After Chris and Albert left, Steve and Paul sat around for a while until Steve felt a vibrating sensation. He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out his pager.
"Damn," he muttered, "it's Ashley."
Paul began to laugh. "I can't believe she's got you on a pager, man!" he wheezed. "You are so fucking whipped!"
Steve got up and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I'm such a pussy," he told Paul on his way to the door, "watch me go get laid."
Steve exited and placed his hands on the hood of his car, realizing he was far too drunk to drive. "Shit," he mumbled to himself. He remembered that something important happened today, but exactly what had escaped him. He opened the car door and sat in the driver's seat. He pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it. Trying to remember, struggling to conjure up the memory of what today meant, it seemed to sober him up. He took a long drag off of the cigarette and right before blowing out a large cloud of smoke it hit him. "Fucking anniversary!" he cursed.
He slammed the door shut and raced the car around town in a desperate attempt to find any store open that sold anything Ashley might like. Eventually, he stopped at a liquor store. He trudged in and subconsciously headed for the alcohol. 'Maybe she'd like some champagne', he thought. He knew champagne was for memorable occasions, and things like this were memorable, so he went ahead and bought a bottle. This was a very rare liquor store, the kind you'd only find in a real fuckin' nice town because it sold flowers, which would effectively get Steve out of this bind. He knew she loved tulips to no end, so he got those. He got back into the car and drove toward Ashley's house.