Late-Night Talks: Four
“No?”
“Yes, no.”
“Huh?”
“Don't give me that look. Honestly, what do you expect? You expect me to come here every night and listen to you drone on and on, and just go back to your place and suck your cock because life is so deep and hard and miserable? Is that really your strategy? It doesn't impress me.
“Sure, you're older than me. And you've been there-done that-gotten the stupid t-shirt. But, come on, is that all you have to talk about? Do you always talk in vague, cryptic language about the hardships of simply being? It takes more than two shots and a beer for that to impress me.
“Life is hard. It always has been. It always will be. Kids will be kids, make mistakes, and trip up. Adults will be there to hold their hands, slap their wrists, wag their fingers and preach the Word of learnt wisdom and wisened caution. But I'm not some kid with a scraped knee, fallen off my bike. I'm a bright and perky twenty-something with hopes and aspirations.
“My personal ad, it tells of puppies and tall, dark men, because that's what I have to worry about. I don't want to sit around and be dour, sip my whiskey and wonder when the world will end. I have more to look forward to than that, at this point. Namely, good times and good sex.
“In due time, I'll sit down and contemplate world issues. But, is this the time for that? War and death and famine and starvation and evil corporations and soulless entertainment and moral bankruptcy everywhere, what do I have to add? Hundreds of experts are pounding away on keyboards to try and fix the problems of humanity with poignant sentences on irrelevant websites, already. However, I'm in a bar.
“Tell me, what do you think you're going to accomplish? What do you think anyone accomplishs, in the end? We live, we fuck, we die: that's it. History is written by the privileged, and if you're not born into that, you may as well count yourself lucky to not be poor on the streets and get on with life.
“Frankly, though, you're good in bed and don't come as quickly as most guys, so I'd appreciate it if you shut your mouth and drove me home.”
“Yes, no.”
“Huh?”
“Don't give me that look. Honestly, what do you expect? You expect me to come here every night and listen to you drone on and on, and just go back to your place and suck your cock because life is so deep and hard and miserable? Is that really your strategy? It doesn't impress me.
“Sure, you're older than me. And you've been there-done that-gotten the stupid t-shirt. But, come on, is that all you have to talk about? Do you always talk in vague, cryptic language about the hardships of simply being? It takes more than two shots and a beer for that to impress me.
“Life is hard. It always has been. It always will be. Kids will be kids, make mistakes, and trip up. Adults will be there to hold their hands, slap their wrists, wag their fingers and preach the Word of learnt wisdom and wisened caution. But I'm not some kid with a scraped knee, fallen off my bike. I'm a bright and perky twenty-something with hopes and aspirations.
“My personal ad, it tells of puppies and tall, dark men, because that's what I have to worry about. I don't want to sit around and be dour, sip my whiskey and wonder when the world will end. I have more to look forward to than that, at this point. Namely, good times and good sex.
“In due time, I'll sit down and contemplate world issues. But, is this the time for that? War and death and famine and starvation and evil corporations and soulless entertainment and moral bankruptcy everywhere, what do I have to add? Hundreds of experts are pounding away on keyboards to try and fix the problems of humanity with poignant sentences on irrelevant websites, already. However, I'm in a bar.
“Tell me, what do you think you're going to accomplish? What do you think anyone accomplishs, in the end? We live, we fuck, we die: that's it. History is written by the privileged, and if you're not born into that, you may as well count yourself lucky to not be poor on the streets and get on with life.
“Frankly, though, you're good in bed and don't come as quickly as most guys, so I'd appreciate it if you shut your mouth and drove me home.”