I  I  had nearly 750 of Jack. had nothing in my system other than food.   Right?  So, nothing.  I'm getting nothing.  The bottle is stuffed somewhere over there somewhere.  You can come look; I wish you were here.  It was pointless. All I got was more pressure between my ears. I went Subway, ordered a chicken soup with crackers and a cup of water, sat down, and enjoyed my meal.  Nobody noticed me anymore than they would have had I not consumed the bottle.  There were no stupid jokes, no bold moves.  There were a young light skinned black guy and maybe an Indian girl, but she may have been black or middle eastern.  I'm tempted to say they both had a turkey melt, but it could have been because the poster for the "New Turkey Melt" behind me or the gym couple, who later walked in and were talking about the sandwich. The Indian girl got a loaded potato soup. I remember thinking that she got the other flavor—what, does she think she 's better than me?  She got a sandwich, too, so there's meat in there already.  I would have done that, too.  Those thoughts were seqential. Of the gym couple, I thought the Hispanic girl was pretty, and also looked familiar.  No, I didn't notice if her counterpart was of the same race.  The black boy liked to dance and listen to his music while he was with the Indian girl, while they were ordering, and while they were eating.  I think the girl may have paid for dinner, but he's no scrub cause I liked the way she was looking at him while she ate, and he danced and ate.  I had glanced to see what she looked like. She had a big nose.  Purple in her hair.  She was cute.  That couple was sitting a little behind me, somewhat next to me, but my chair and seats were higher than theirs.  To my right, in the corner, were another couple I didn't notice.  In front of me in the other high table was a solitary heavyset girl who had nothing on her table the whole time I was there, from when I walked passed her and ordered, to when I passed her to sit at the other high table.  Her table was at the center of the tables but closest to where all that ordering happens.  I wondered if she was lonely, because she didn't look very happy and didn't stare around to check out the studs nearby.  More likely, she was on the clock, and was milking every minute of her freedom—that, or she was one of the sandwich artists' stalkers.  I left before the gym couple chose their tables, or they may have got it to go, I find more.  

I also went to the pharmacy, to see if maybe there's something to relieve the pressure in my ears.  He said they were closing.  Also, that he can't recommend anything, and that I should go see my doctor.  

I said okay.  I was wondering as I exited if I should go to the hospital, just to check, but that would be embarassing and unfair to people with real emergencies.

Now I'm finally getting drowsy.  Writing helped.  I like sleep, especially if there's a dog nearby.  I haven't been sleeping much lately.