The Bullshit Artist


Leaning back slack on the bar, black eyeliner and drawn on eyebrows, he says he’s an illusionist. Well dressed in a two dollar shirt, grey stained dress pants, and a fake tanned crocodile skin jacket with an iron stain he’s tried to cover with brown shoe polish. Slicks down bottle bleach hair, with home job manicure hands. Keeps saying after the next show, he’ll have it made. He’s got a pen in his pocket and signs and passes out pieces of paper for the hell of it and says one day that’ll be worth a lot of money. I can read minds. Really? Yeah… OK, for a drink, what am I thinking? That I’m a tosser. Close, yes very close, and for another drink, what’s that guy over there thinking? The pink T-shirt one with the beer gut? Yeah. He’s thinking about how he wants to go home and watch the V8s. HEY MATE, WHAT’RE YOU THINKING ABOUT? I’M THINKING ABOUT HOW COME MARK WEBBER KEEPS SO MANY SPONSORSHIP DEALS, HE’S FU- See. Ok, ok, easy guesses, double or nothing? Done. What am I thinking about now? You’re thinking about…um…um…hold on a minute…see the alcohol is um…nope something was blocking my thoughts, you won, so what were you thinking about? I was thinking about how I’m going to scam you out of two drinks. Bloodshot eyes, he stares back, angry.

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