Clubbing: Part I

The day had come early. Too early as far as Isaac can tell. He groaned as he opened up his bloodshot eyes against the early morning sun filtering through the blinds of his window. He cursed under his breath as he tried turning away while rubbing his temples in a bid to rid himself of the hangover.

It had been a wild night at the club. The music boomed, the booze flowed freely and the beautiful women gyrating their hips all night long. Isaac was there, absorbing the music, guzzling the booze, and grinding the women, only he wasn't known as Isaac, leastways not at the club. John, a regular and more manly sounding name than Isaac. Under his breath, he cursed his now dead parents for deciding to call him by the most useless-sounding name ever.

The sun's omnipotent rays penetrated through his cover, warming him up considerably---that did not help his hangover headache much. Swearing loudly, Isaac suddenly sat upright and felt his head throbbing uncontrollably. He looked about him, his mind still in a stupor. He was glad that there was no strange woman in his bed, something that had happened before that was particularly embarassing because he handd't remembered her name, causing her to slap him once before stomping off in a huff.

Gathering whatever thoughts he had (and could) Isaac finally got out of bed. By then the sun had already permeated through his entire room, and there was nothing else that he could do. He could have shuttered the blinds, but they still allowed the orange glow in, which was as bad as having bright sunlight in. He had been thinking of getting better curtains, but could never bring himself to do so.

Isaac made his way slowly to his bathroom, his headache slowly ebbing away. He turned on the tap and just let the running water flow from the tap and through his outstretched palms for a while. The cool water was refreshing, but he was waiting for the freezing water instead. When that came along, he splashed it liberally all over his face. Instantly, he was awake as the freezing water constricted the fiery blood vessels in his eye and cooled off the flush he was feeling. He lingered on a bit before retrieving his toothbrush and toothpaste from the mirror cabinet and proceeded to brush his teeth.

Just as he got to the final rinse, he could hear the phone ringing incessantly. Cursing once again, he quickly rinsed off and dried his face with the towel before grabbing the phone on the table.

``Jesus Isaac, where the hell were you? You sure fucked it up bad this time.'' It was Moe, Isaac's friend at the club. The owner, really.

Wait, did Moe said he fucked it up bad this time? Whatever could he mean?

(Story continues here.)