I don't know if you're all patient enough to keep reading

Well those excerpts I just posted are not in chronological order. Now I give to you the beginning of my story, let me know if it reels you all in.

Getting a drink thrown in my face has been my biggest wakeup call to date. I was just standing at this bar when some girl walks up to me and I just tell her that she’s got some love handles. I was just trying to give her a wordup. Better me telling her, than some gy pulling on them later that night and making her feel like complete shit. So this girl reacts as follows:

She raises her cranberry vodka drink, splashes it in my eyes and yells “fuck you, you skinny mother fucker.”
At that point I just retreat to my frineds. They always stand near the corner of the bar when they aren’t playing pool or ordering Miller High Life bottles from the one waitress Kristen, the one whose’s got the asymetrical red haircut, the one I tried to make out with once in a drunken rampage, the one who won’t stop texting me once a day.
So after the crazy bitch tries to blind me with pure berry ethenol, I retreat to the smoke balcony. Now the thing with smoking is—I love to hate it. I mean deep down I wish I’d never started up again. I treated a lot of people differently (including my mom, Sherrie) when I started up again but didn’t feel like telling them. It’s hard for me to admit that I do things that I don’t necessarily wish I did.
So I head out to the smoking area, which so happens to be the fire escape for the bar, and there I see this waif of a girl. I mean it seems to me that most girls have problems, most girls I know have either thrown up a meal or snorted a line, but this girl was a tad bit more pathetic, this girl just so happened to also be a smoker. So I’m out on there and this girl, she says her name’s Kellie—“ie at the end.” She seems alright, she seems different. At this point I just want to shake one pointless year of dating and have a one-night-stand or whatever. I mean I figured that this nypmpfy- fairy girl would offer me at least one entertaining nightso I went up and asked for a light.
She fumbled around for a bit in her purse. She had long curly blonde hair and a nose that that more character than beauty. The sort of nose that distroys an otherwise beautiful face, but is refered to as being “interesing” and “ethnic.” I couldn’t tell at the time but upon closer inspection I could tell that her nose had a tiny stud peirced into it.
“It’s alright if you don’t have it,” I said as I leaned down, my Marboro still pursed between my lips. Just then my buddy Reagan came out onto the escape. He said that he wanted to move to some other bar, he suggested a place down the way that served two dollar pitchers.
“Yeah that sounds alright,” I said, my face still close to the nape of Kellie’s neck.
“How about we meet you over there in ten minutes once we’re done here?” Kellie said.
“That’s fine,” Reagan nodded in my direction. He headed out leaving Kellie and I alone.
“What kind of cigs do you smoke?” I ask. I can tell that I’m younger than her. I’m not sure how exaclty I sensed it at the time, but some how I knew that she was at least a year my senior.
“They’re Newport Lights, I know, It’s sort of girly, but I’m a girl.”
“And a very pretty one at that.”
“What?” she asks.
“I said you’re a pretty girl.”
“That’s sweet.”
“Where are you headed to after this bar?” I asked her.
“I don’t really know, my friends tend to leave while I’m out smoking, they figure that I’ve already left.”
“that’s not very kind of your friends.”
“Girls just aren’t too kind.” That was the statement that made me think that Kellie was like Fern. I thought she was enlightened and atune with masculine ideologies and ideols, hell Fern had pinups plastered all over her apartment wall. She used to say that she appreciated beauty, I have to say though that the girl never really let on to be bi-sexual, besides the time I caught her makingout with her girlfriend at the bar, but that was because they were wasted and Sarah doesn’t know when to layoff. Well Kellie and I never made it over to meet up with Reagan, but he underrstood once I told him the next day about what’d happened.
“I played it like you taught me man. I said, ‘hey have you eatten yet’ and she said ‘yeah I ate but it’s pretty late and I can eat again.