Sticky floors benieth my feet and a speaker with a busted bass blasting in my ear mixed with the giggles of college girls surround me. Another whiskey warmed my stomach as i raise my glass hinting to the bartender that id take another to fill the hole I felt so deep inside. The hole inside my chest felt like the stragest mixture of fire and ice. It burned and yerned all the while being so cold my hands shook and the hair on my arms stood straight up. Another sip down my throat, still no warmth to my outsides. The bar was full but i might as well have been lost at sea, the crowd of people just a mirage to tease my mind. And another sip, this time the fire and ice were starting to mix and create steam inside my belly. Warm, but not hot cocoa on a cold day warm, hot pavement beneathe barefeet warm. Steam that was lifting through my body and slowly escaping the corners of my eyes like a humid summer rain. Another sip and the sleeve of my shirt turning into windshield wipers trying to hide the storm that was brewing. The ice had fully melted through my eyes and the only thing that crossed my mind was i couldnt quite figure out why it was called happy hour at all.