[ WP ] You wake up in a bar with no memory how you got there . Last thing you remember is going into work . 2 days ago . You have no . Cellphone/wallet/memory of your identity , no one else remembers who you are also .

*Drip... Drip... Drip... * 
 
 The air was stale. I had only been awake for less than 5 minutes, and yet these were the only things registering my senses. Stale air to breath, and an annoying dripping noise. I had n't dared open my eyes yet, my head was killing me and I was concerned the light of the outside world would do to my piercing headache. 
 
 I reached up to the back of my head with my hand. Instinctual thinking told me by touching the source of pain, it would magically feel better... It did n't. Instead, it created more questions in my mind as I felt flakes of something transfer to my fingertips. `` You've really gotten yourself into a bind, have n't you.... umm...'' I searched my brain for a memory of my name. Anything at all, but I drew a blank. 
 
 I needed some answers, and right now, that meant braving the headache and opening my eyes. The lighting was dim, thank goodness. The fluorescent bulbs flickered overhead. I sat alone, in a poorly lit restroom upon the porcelain throne. I looked at the hand I used to feel the back of my head. `` Dried blood... This just is n't your day...'' 
 
 I slowly stood up, being careful as possible with my balance. The room looked like it had n't been cleaned in decades. Old vomit had crusted the floor long ago next to the toilet. `` Poor sap must have missed when he was in a rush.'' 
 
 I exited the stall I had woke up in and made my way to the source of drips. It was a rather plain, white faucet that had been dripping water for who knows how long. `` The guy who owns this place must not be concerned about his water bill.'' I began to remember that the dry humor and snide comments were a coping mechanism I had employed long ago for dealing with stress and uncertainty. I had a feeling I was going to be making a lot of these comments in the near future. 
 
 I looked in the mirror and an unfamiliar face looked back at me. It was beaten to a pulp. Bruises and cuts marred my face. `` Good gosh, did you get into a bar fight or what?'' I hoped I was once a handsome fella who had seen better days. I guessed I was maybe in my late 20's... or maybe 30's? All I could really distinguish were blue eyes, blonde hair, and a boyish charm that came from battle scars and wounds. `` My mother would be proud... Whoever and where ever she is.'' I washed up the best I could, there was only so much I could do for the disaster that was my face. 
 
 The squeak of the bathroom door echoed as I pushed it open. My eyes widened as I made my way out and realized I really was in a bar. `` Well, crap... Maybe it was a bar fight?'' 
 
 `` You finally awake bub?'' 
 
 I pivoted on my foot and gazed toward the direction of the voice. A man was behind the counter, cleaning up some glassware. `` Are you talking to me?'' 
 
 He looked around, and then back at me. `` Look mac, we technically are n't open at the moment, so you and I are the only ones here. Yeah, I'm talking to you. You looked like you were so peaceful in that bathroom, I did n't have the heart to wake you up.'' He began to pull a bottle down from behind the shelf, and pour it into a glass is procured from under the bar. `` Here buddy... Looks like you could use a drink.'' 
 
 `` Yeah... Thanks...'' I took the drink in hand and gave it a sip. `` Bourbon... My favorite... I think?'' 
 
 The barkeep chuckled, `` I'm sure I would be struggling if I were you. How are you even standing right now? You must have the tenacity of a bull.'' 
 
 `` I'm not really sure... But you know, some things are slowly coming to me as I walk around. The last thing I really remember was heading to work... but I do n't remember what it was I did...'' 
 
 `` Sorry bub, ca n't really help you there.'' The barkeep was still cleaning glasses, but his body language changed a bit. He seemed more standoffish now. Did he know something? 
 
 I walked around the bar a bit, and a newspaper clipping caught my eye.'Peterson, reigning boxing champ defends the title for the 2nd time.' I stared at the picture for a bit. The man with his arms in the victory pose was battered and bruised, yet looked vaguely familiar. I began to turn. `` Hey, what can you tell me about the guy in this picture?'' 
 
 The barkeep was now approaching with a billiard cue in hand. `` Sorry Peterson, but I ca n't have you showing up to the championship fight tonight.'' He swung the billiard cue down with all his might. 
 
 A simple thought came into my mind as I watched the cue stick come ever closer to me. `` Today is just not my day.'' 
 
 -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- 
 
 *Drip... Drip... Drip... * 
 
 The air was stale. I slowly opened my eyes and was greeted by a dimly lit bathroom stall. `` Well, this looks familiar...'' 

