

First Impressions Don't Always Count

(The Prelude)

Guthmiller, Keith, 1965-

ISBN 978-0-9868573-4-8

copyright © 2019 Keith Guthmiller

This book is dedicated to all of the people who don't have to be alone.

Thank you.

You can achieve all of your dreams

when you truly believe in yourself.

Books in this series:

First Impressions Don't Always Count (The Prelude)

First Impressions Don't Always Count (The Journey Begins)

First Impressions Don't Always Count (The Journey Continues)

First Impressions Don't Always Count (The Journey Ends, But The Path Beckons)

Table of Contents

PRELUDE TO A PRELUDE

FINALLY, OUT OF THE FIRE...I THINK

IT CAN'T BE THAT HARD!

I GUESS PORN ISN'T ALL BAD

YOU'VE GOT A WHAT???

GOTTA GET ONLINE

EVERY GOOD PARTY HAS TO HAVE A THEME

DANCING CAN'T BE THIS EASY

YOU THINK I'M WHAT?

I'M A PLAYA

SOMETIMES IT HAS TO END

## PRELUDE TO A PRELUDE

Prelude; every book needs one. But prelude is just a fancy-pants word for the thing that comes before, an introduction. It might add more sophistication to something such as a symphony, or create scary and thrilling sensations like a prelude to a murder. It really depends on the context but the only things that are going to be murdered in this book are the English language, grammar, spelling, punctuation, style, and your belief that I'm a good author.  Besides, murdering someone in a dating guide just isn't right. There are no chapters on how to deal with this nor do I know how to write one. Not that I even would...

First Impressions Don't Always Count (The Prelude) is a prelude because it is the thing which comes before although it's not the first book to be written in the series. After having published First Impressions Don't Always Count (The Journey Begins) something needed to be written to introduce the main character to the world so I had to come up with something. Something free.

The world has changed a lot because of the internet, especially with writing. Every person has a story inside of them and they can now share it with anyone they want to. Some do it for free and some do it to get paid. (Almost sounds like sex, doesn't it?)  I'm in the I'd-like-to-get-paid camp because with the money there are projects for helping others I'd like to complete. Still, to compete and survive, something free should be offered and this is where this book comes in. Not just to give something away but also to give you an idea of what to look forward to.

This short book (it's definitely not novel length!) is an introduction to the main character in the First Impressions Don't Always Count series. It's always nice to know a little about our characters but how can a back story be created without revealing too much? That's the tricky part. Hopefully this prelude will show you just enough and hopefully you'll enjoy reading as much as I've enjoyed writing.

But if you don't then too bad. At least you didn't have to waste your valuable time washing dishes.

You're welcome. Dishes are evil.

And since I've helped you avoid one of the most nauseating chores known to humankind you owe me in a very big way. But don't worry I won't collect, because that's just the  kind of awesome guy I am.

You're welcome again.

Now that you've realized what a serious obligation you owe me how about we stop talking and dive in to learn about how NOT to live life! After all we all could probably use a little bit of help in that department.

Enjoy your story.

## FINALLY, OUT OF THE FIRE...I THINK

I made it, not sure how but I made it. I don't have much but at least my sanity is intact. Well I think it is anyway. There's a little cash in my pocket and hopefully I can start over again.

But not like what I just got out of, there's no way I'm going through that again. This time I'm going to do it right, especially with what I know.

Six years ago with a new city giving me a new start I was determined to do everything right. Starting over clean and fresh with a positive attitude was also exciting and I was on top of the world. The drinking was going to be under control, drugs were going to disappear from my life, I was going to find a new job, become responsible, and meet someone to settle down with. I was going to be a real person.

Isn't it amazing how optimistic we can be when we don't know the future?

And why does optimism make people so stupid, especially me? The reality I followed wasn't something I had prepared for or imagined.

Things were going great in the beginning. My life was moving in the direction I had hoped.

Then I found the wrong person.

But not the wrong person at the time. I guess the saying that you shouldn't meet your future spouse in a bar is pretty close to telling the truth.

Where else was I going to meet her? After all the bar is where I meet a lot of people. Everyone is just out for a good time so you would think that it would be common ground. And if you're a friendly, happy person while drunk shouldn't that mean you're a friendly happy person while sober too? Isn't drinking supposed to bring out the person you really are inside? Sure, tempers can flare but that's the booze talking. It's just a part of the package.

I'm a happy, fun drunk, because that's the person who I really am inside. When I'm sober I'm a little shy so the alcohol helps to get my tongue moving.

So what's wrong with that? Nothing! It helps people (and especially me) become more open and free about themselves. It's hard to hide who you truly are after a few drinks. So I thought other people were like this too.

But somehow all of these assumptions were wrong about her even though she was open, fun, flirty, and a good person to be with. We did so much together and it wasn't always drinking. Sure, we fought sometimes but all people do when they are starting a life together and figuring things out. So I thought that we had worked out our differences and we got married.

That's when things started to go horribly wrong.

I have no idea how someone could change so quickly...

She changed. Boy, did she change. Suddenly no matter what I did it wasn't good enough. I worked a lot of overtime to buy her the things she wanted because she just didn't want what everyone else had, she had to have better. It was tough going but we were married and I had promised to take care of her, and I keep my word. So I worked even harder and still my money seemed to flow out and never come back. It still wasn't good enough.

To top it off she hated my friends and I don't know why because they treated her very well. But no matter what they did they just weren't good enough and she told them so. Pretty soon my friends were only tolerating her because I asked them to. I told them that it was just the change of being married that was probably causing her to act this way and given a little time it'll all work out.

They didn't believe me. And maybe somewhere inside I didn't believe me either.

But I had to keep on trying to make things work and couldn't lose my friends. Without them I would have gone insane but at the time I didn't know that. So my wife and I would go out, she'd say something, and I'd be apologizing for her. The only time that didn't happen was when she was drunk, then she was fun to be around. Going out to places with alcohol became a safe thing to do. It's amazing how people will try to make things work and ignore what is really going on. It's a good thing we didn't have kids like she wanted or it would have been a nightmare.

Anyway, I thought she had a confidence issue and that's why she always had to have expensive things so I started hiding money from my paycheque, not to keep it from her, but to help her. Once there was enough I put down a down payment on a house. It had three suites, one in the basement, one on the main floor, and one on the second. Not only were these suites going to pay the mortgage but they were also going to put money in our pockets as well.

I finally showed her the house, I was really excited, and I thought that she was going to be happy. She was going to be a landlord, have extra money coming in, and she could hold her head high. Boy, was I wrong! The fight started and she started yelling and yelling and yelling. She wanted to know how I could be so stupid as to waste money on a house like that when there were better houses to live in. And where did the money come from? No matter how hard I tried to explain she just kept screaming and screaming. Finally I told her she can come or she can go but I'm moving into the house and started packing. Even the basement suite was bigger than our apartment so I couldn't see how it was a stupid thing. She thought it was a bluff but quickly realized I was serious and yelled some more but we moved into the basement.

Yes, moving into the basement was another fight but if we had lived on the main floor we would have lost a lot of money and like I said before the basement suite was bigger than our apartment. We were living rent free and earning money as well. That seemed like a win-win to me but to her I was nothing more than a moron.

With my job as a manager in a very popular and expensive nightclub and with the extra rent money coming in the house would have been paid off in five years. Then we could have either sold it or used it as collateral to buy a better one. The owner of the nightclub was even hinting that at some point he would like to retire and if I wanted to buy the place he would give me a really good deal since he liked me. I knew his books and the place was a goldmine. Yes, in five years my wife could have had anything she wanted.

But it wasn't to be. For two years it was constant fight, fight, fight, almost every day, and the stress took its toll. Working in a nightclub I had access to free booze and pretty soon there were many nights I came home plastered because I didn't want to face what was coming.

Night after night, day after day, I lost myself in alcohol. But never while working. The owner knew what was going on and told me if I ever started drinking while working I was done. He was my friend but he was also a businessman and knew when to let go of a bad thing. I promised him that I would never drink while on duty and never did although there were days it was pretty tempting. We had a lot of talks together and he started suggesting divorce. I told him that wasn't possible because marriage is supposed to be forever. He said that it should be but forever only lasts for so long, just ask his third wife. That got a chuckle out of us both and I told him thanks but I have to keep on trying. He said that is why he was willing to offer me the nightclub a lot cheaper than he would to others because I never wanted to give up no matter the circumstances. He had built that place from the ground up and wanted it to go into good hands and if it was necessary he would even finance me.

Yeah, I was getting a sweetheart deal and truthfully I was really looking forward to it. My life was moving towards a very bright future and that thought kept me going, some days stopping my hand reaching for a bottle.

But the day finally came when alcohol and delusions couldn't hide the truth. There was no way my wife and I were going to be forever. The fights escalated and it became obvious that if they continued physical violence was soon to become the norm and I just couldn't bear the thought of that. I was raised never to hit a woman but I could see that she didn't think the same way. There were days she would get ready to slap me and then stop but it was becoming harder and harder for her to hold back. Her words and voice became more and more violent and pretty soon we couldn't rent out the main floor because of our yelling. Tenants didn't want to hear the constant fighting and they moved out just as quickly as they moved in.

Money became tighter and pretty soon I was working seven days a week just to keep our heads above water.

It also kept me from being at home. Which I probably secretly wanted anyway.

But whenever I wasn't home she would invite her friends over and they would just sit around and badmouth me. I found this out from a tenant who was moving out and wanted me to know what was going on.

But you know something? I never talked bad about her to other people. In fact I would defend her if someone made a disparaging remark. After all she was my love, my life, and I had to protect her.

Still, a person can only take so much. I remember the day so clearly when I finally made the decision. We were in the midst of another fight and she was telling me how useless I was when she raised her hand in a fist and from the look in her eye I knew she had finally broken though and was going to swing. I shut my mouth, grabbed my jacket, and left the house.

The lawyer said that because of the witnesses and the abuse she had heaped I didn't have to give her anything but I was tired of fighting. I gave her the house, the car, all of the bank account except for $3000, and bought a bus ticket to anywhere else.

Haven't heard from her since but I did find out through the grapevine that she quickly lost the house because she couldn't afford the mortgage payments and couldn't keep any tenants. The night club was sold to someone else and is still going strong.

Oh, and the divorce was never contested. She thought that she was smarter than me.

But that was then and this is now.

I've travelled a bit (it's amazing how you can stretch a few thousand dollars when you have to) but now I'm done and I'm going to start over in this place. There's still a $1000 in my pocket, a really good letter of recommendation from my old boss, and the knowledge that I am a survivor, no matter what gets thrown my way.

But I'm scared to get back into a relationship. I don't want to be hurt like that again and it's going to take some time to heal. Plus I really cut down on the drinking. Not because it makes sense but because it's a survival instinct. I don't need to meet someone like my wife again and I need a clear head about me.

Maybe one day I'll start dating again but right now I'm just going to start my life over and this time I'm going to do it right.

## IT CAN'T BE THAT HARD!

Well, here I am. Single again.

...and really, really stupid.

About six months into my new start I found Vanessa, a very nice woman, and we began seeing each other almost every day for six months. Things were so good between us that we were going to move in together, and then for some incredibly stupid reason my mouth had to start moving in the wrong direction.

We had just finished making love and she was all snuggled into me when she started talking about our future together. That wasn't so bad but she also talked about the possibility of marriage.

I freaked. Not on the outside but way down on the inside.

Of course it's natural to talk about these things but something just came over me and I pulled away from her. I had never mentioned my marriage or divorce to her and didn't want to. She asked what was wrong and I tried to lighten the mood by saying it wasn't her, it was me, and how do we know if we love each other enough to commit to marriage?

The surprise on her face should have been enough of a warning but my mouth kept moving.

I said that we're just in the honeymoon period and one day it'll stop and then where will we be?

Her surprise turned to hurt but did that stop me? Nope. Me and my mouth had to just keep on spewing foolishness.

So I told her that maybe we should see other people just to make sure that we were right for each other and not making a mistake.

That's when the tears started and she asked me if I love her.

I really did but my brain gave up and shut down because my mouth wasn't taking any orders. I told her that I'm not sure so that's why we should try seeing other people.

It's amazing how fast the hurt and tears turned into anger. Then she yelled. Boy did she yell.

And it went something like this:

"WHY ARE YOU SO STUPID AND THAT IS THE STUPIDEST THING I'VE EVER HEARD!"

"But I---"

"STOP TALKING! AND WHEN SOMEONE SAYS THEY LOVE YOU RIGHT AFTER MAKING LOVE YOU AREN'T SUPPOSED TO LOOK CONFUSED!"

"Vanessa---"

"I SAID STOP! YOU HAD YOUR SAY AND NOW I WANT TO HAVE MINE! SO HAVE YOU BEEN LYING ABOUT YOUR FEELINGS ALL OF THESE MONTHS? AM I JUST A STEADY LAY TO YOU?"

"No, that's not---"

"YOU'RE STILL STUPID! AND WHAT IS THE REAL REASON WE'RE BREAKING UP?"

"But..."

"AREN'T I GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU?"  More tears fall. "WHAT DID I DO WRONG?"

"You didn't do anything wrong, it's me."

"YOU'RE A COMPLETE JERK AND NEED TO LEAVE NOW! YOU'RE JUST LIKE MY LAST BOYFRIEND AND JUST WANTED TO USE ME."

Oh fudge...I didn't know about that. She has secrets too.

"HOW COULD I FALL IN LOVE WITH A SELFISH JERK LIKE YOU? I THOUGHT YOU WERE DIFFERENT. AND WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE?"

I don't think I can fix this.

"DON'T CALL ME EVER AGAIN AND I HOPE YOU GET EVERY VENEREAL DISEASE KNOWN IN YOUR STUPID SEARCH FOR THE PERFECT WOMAN!"

I had never seen her this mad.

"BUT YOU'LL NEVER FIND HER BECAUSE YOU CAN'T SEE WHAT IS RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOUR EYES! NOW GET OUT!!!"

I tried to apologize but she kept throwing things and screaming for me to get out.

So here I am, single again and yes, a complete moron. I've tried calling her but she ignores most of my calls. I think I'll just have to suck it up and move on.

Yes, I seriously screwed up. She's a really nice person and willing to do anything for me, unlike my ex wife. Vanessa hurt because of my incredible stupidity and was just letting it out. I have never met a more trusting soul but trust only goes so far when people keep hurting them. And I hurt her. Took her trust, her love, and squashed it. It's my fault and I'm very aware what an ignorant fool I've been. There's no way even trying to make excuses trying and justifying this.

So now I get to go back into the dating world and start over again. But one of the things I need to do first is figure out what happened in my marriage and deal with it. I can't hurt another person like Vanessa again. I just can't.

So what can I do to fix this thing in my head? There are obviously trust issues so where can I go to get these figured out? A shrink? I'm not so sure about that. I want to be fixed now, not in ten years.

Can there be things online that would help? Other people have to be in the same situation as me so they might have some knowledge I could use.

Maybe there is some sort of medication? Not that I want any drugs. I've heard some of the side effects an be brutal.

I really don't know how to deal with this and the only person I could talk to just kicked me out of her life.

Geez, I'm such an idiot. But I have to fix this, I just have--wait, what about meditation classes? Maybe that will help. Oh, and there's a special deal on flotation tank sessions. Maybe if I float for an hour in complete silence and darkness all of the scary crap in my brain will just float away.

And what about yoga? Isn't that supposed to help clear the body and mind?

I just don't know, I really don't. Maybe a combination of everything. All I know is that I have to fix this and fix it quick. Maybe one day I can prove myself and get Vanessa back. We definitely would have been good for each other so maybe it's not too late but I have some growing up to do first. Show her that I'm responsible and not scared.

But where to start? Maybe I'll go out tonight and have a couple of drinks just to help me think better. I didn't drink when I was with Vanessa and it didn't bother me. She doesn't drink so I decided not to either but she's not here to help and won't take my calls so I'm going to have to do this on my own. It'll just be a few drinks, nothing too stupid, and everything should be fine.

Being in a bar while newly single is scary. I'm sure everyone can see that I'm a loser and are secretly laughing at me. Well okay, maybe not, but it sure feels that way. A couple of more drinks should clear that up though.

Yes, much better. I'm feeling good and not a negative thought in me. There are a couple of women looking my way so just a couple more drinks for a little more courage and I'll go over and talk to them. This should be a piece of cake.

After few more drinks I stand up. And the room tilts a little.

Woah, I'm not too steady. I guess I had one too many but hey I can still talk, so I wobble over to the women. "Hey, how ya doin'?"

They both reel back from the smell of the alcohol. Then one of them looks me up and down and says "Sex is better when you're sober."  Her and her friend get up and go to the other side of the room.

Ouch.

Okay, mebbe I had too mush to drink and don't think I'm goin' to have luck tonight. I'll jus' go home and nest time won't drink so mush.

Finding my coat was surprisingly difficult but I fumble my arms into it and go.

I'm going try this again but this time I'm only going to carry fifty dollars cash in my pocket. The credit and bank card are staying at home so I don't get really drunk again. That woman is right, sex is better sober and I can see it from her point of view. Why would she want to be with a guy that can't even find his own zipper?

Yeah, not fun.

Tonight I'll just have a few drinks to get a slight buzz going and so I'll be feeling pretty good and a little loose. Just enough to help loosen my tongues and not look like I'm about to puke on her shoes.

Okay, here I am. Never been here before so nobody should know me. Make a fresh start. I walk into the bar.

This place isn't so bad. It's got a live band on stage playing classical rock and they sound pretty good. The bar is filled up with people of all ages so I should be able to find someone here that'll be interested. But first I'm just going to buy a juice and try not to drink. I walk up to the bar, "Hey, do you have pineapple juice?"

The bartender leans over and she's wearing a very low cut blouse. I'm trying so hard right now not to look into her cleavage. "Yes we do."

She definitely knows how to get tips. "Cool. Can I have a pineapple juice please?"

No drink yet, just a blank look. So I stare at her and she stares back. "And?"

"Just the juice please, I'm not drinking tonight because I'm driving."  Yeah, it's a lie but it's a reasonable lie.

"Ah, being responsible tonight?"  She grabs the mixer gun and pours the juice into a glass.

"I'm trying"--a big grin works it's way onto my face--"but it's tough sometimes."

The glass clicks on the bar in front of me, "For sure."

"What do I owe you?"

"No charge since you're trying to be responsible."  Her grin matches mine, "But if you stop being responsible I'm going to charge you double."

Cool. "Thanks."  I grab a dollar and put it in her tip jar. I get one more smile and she turns to another customer.

Okay, I got a drink and now just to find a place to sit down. Ah, there's one over there beside that group of women. Good as place as any. So off I go to see how this night will turn out.

When I sit down I notice that one of the women is wearing one of those plastic princess crowns. I don't need a drink to be really curious. "What's with the crown?"

She turns to me, "It's my birthday!"

"Oh, happy birthday!"

"Thank you."

"Can I buy you a birthday drink?"

"Sure."

So off I go back to the bartender and as I get there she reaches for the mixer gun. "No, I want to buy a birthday drink for--" I point to the woman with the crown "--her. Can you make a Creamsicle?"

"Sure."  Very quickly the drink is in front of me and I hand her the cash. Another dollar goes into her tip jar.

It's the cleavage doing making me do tip but I'm willing to go along...

I return to the table, "A special drink for a special birthday lady."

"What is it?"

"A Creamsicle. Ever had one?"

"No."

"They're really good, taste almost like a real Creamsicle."

"I like those."  She tips the glass to her lips and tries a small taste, then drinks until it is gone. "That's good! I'll have to remember this one."  Turning to one of her friends she smiles, "If this guy just roofied me make sure you beat the crap out of him."

Her friend turns to me as a very evil looking grin appears on her lips, "No problem."  I wouldn't doubt that she could because she's got harder muscles than mine. She turns back to the birthday girl, "That's why I do MMA sweetie, just so I can protect you."

Mixed Martial Arts? Yikes! "Hey, no worries! Just buying a birthday drink! Not trying to get my face bashed in."

The women around the table laugh and birthday girl looks at me, "Good to know. And since you bought me a drink it's time for shots!"

Shots??? I don't have that much money! "Uh, I didn't bring enough money for shots for everyone. I mean, I would buy if I had."

She laughs again, "No, we're buying the shots! Wanna join us?"

OHHHHHHHHHH. "Sure."

Her MMA friend gets up and goes to the bar, quickly returning with a round of shots for everyone. She places one in front of each of us and hold hers up in a toast, "Happy birthday to the best little sister a person could ever have!"

'Cheers!' goes around the table and we slam them back.

Little sister? This might turn out to be a good night after all. I buy a few jugs of beer with my remaining money and we start the chugging contests.

My head is being repeatedly smashed under the feet of very large elephants. I've never had a hangover this bad or felt this way before.

Something just feels wrong, really really wrong. It's morning, I'm lying on my bed half undressed not knowing how I got here, have a feeling of dying, my heart is palpitating, there's no hand-eye coordination, and I have to seriously concentrate on breathing. There is something seriously wrong and I fumble open the laptop to search for symptoms.

It doesn't take long to find the answer and the only good thing about all of this is that the dose wasn't lethal.

I was roofied.

## I GUESS PORN ISN'T ALL BAD

It's dangerous out there in the dating world. That roofie thing has got me a little more than scared. What if the dose had been a little bit larger? I wouldn't be here. And just the other night I was beat up and robbed on the way home from the bar. No matter what I kept telling the guy he wouldn't believe that there was no real cash on me. So he split my face open, took $2 in change, a credit card, my wallet and jacket. I cancelled the credit card right away but what has pissed me off the most is that he got all of my ID and now I have to spend a pile of money to get new ones.

I have no idea why life has been kicking me in the head lately but I don't like it. Especially when I go out. So I'm going to stay home for a bit while my face heals and I can figure out what's going wrong. At least take a break from everything.

I hope that this isn't because I broke up with Vanessa and she's done some voodoo karma spell on me. Not that I really believe it but a person can't be too careful.

Okay, I'm just being stupid. She wouldn't voodoo me but I do believe in the karma thing so it's time to chill and clear up my head.

One of the problems is that I haven't been laid in quite a while and it's making me edgy. It's not easy being a man and having the sperm supply refill itself every three days with the old sperm needing a place to retire to. It can get pretty difficult trying to talk to a woman without thinking about where that sperm could be going...

I'm not trying to be a pig, I'm just trying to fight natural instincts.

So, to stop being roofied, getting beat up, and reduce my horniness I'm going to stay home and look at porn. That way I can relieve my tension without being in danger, right?

Yeah, I think so too. Oh, and it'll be cheaper and I won't drink as much. Seems like a win-win to me.

But first I've got to figure what what I want to be watching. I know it isn't regular porn because I can't stand cumshots. Like seriously, what guy pulls out, shoots his load all over a woman's belly or back, and likes it??? No freaking way. And the woman is moaning like she likes it as well. Give me a break! And let's not get started on when he shoots all over her face. That has to hurt when it goes in her eyes. Some things so messed up.

And I'm not even going to mention the acting...

Sure, it can be fun playing Joe The Plumber with a partner but watching it? Ugh.

Well, since I don't like regular porn and there's no way I'm getting into the freakier stuff like S&M, bestiality, pain, hardcore BDSM, fisting, insertions, or whatever else is out there, I'll be looking for something else. You may like that kind of stuff but I sure don't. I'm not judging if you do but it isn't for me. What I want is something a little more realistic so I'll be looking for homemade or amateur videos. From what people have told me it's the camera angle that lets a person know if it's real or staged. Usually in the real ones the camera is set, unless one of the people grab it to do a POV shot. The staged ones have the camera moving. Of course that isn't always true because there could be a threesome or something like that happening so someone will be trying to get a closeup shot. I'll just go for the set camera and maybe the ones where the woman is looking into the camera. I want to see her face. Constant dick shots are a turn off. Oh, and no money shots!!!

Ha ha ha ha ha ha, this is actually quite funny. I never thought I could be so selective about porn. Porn is porn and is all good, but maybe not. Makes sense though because if everyone liked the same thing there wouldn't be so much variety.

I don't believe that porn is a bad thing because there's a time and place for everything. Porn helps people to have fantasies which is a good thing. It's like prostitution, which is not a bad thing in itself. Prostitution provides a service that people use and most of the women are really nice. I just don't like the pimps. I got this from living in a neighbourhood where there were a lot of hookers and I had to walk by them everyday. Eventually I made friends (never used their services though) and found out that they're real people too. They have hopes and dreams just like you and me and most of them aren't there because they want to be, they're usually there because of circumstances. But there were also a few independents who were around because they made a lot of money fast to pay for whatever needed paying for. Some were doing it to get through college and some just wanted to retire by the time they were forty. But for the ones that didn't want to be there I would hear stories about their pimps and that would get to me. As far as I'm concerned pimps are nothing but blood-sucking leeches.

If you think that paying for sex is wrong you're going to have to redo some of your thinking. If you go to a bar, spend a pile of money buying drinks hoping to get laid then what you're doing is the same as prostitution, no matter how you want to justify it. At least with a prostitute there are no doubts about what you're getting and it's consensual. Taking home a girl for sex who's so drunk that she can't stand is way below the level of scum. If that's what's going to happen just stay home and watch porn or pay for a hooker. It'll be cheaper and a lot more morally right than taking advantage of someone who can't competently make her own decisions.

Guess I'm getting off topic but like that woman said "Sex is better when you're sober" and consensual sex is even better. But hey, I got roofied, have no idea what happened, and so do I have a say in what is right?

But enough of my moral spoutings, I've got amateur porn to get to.

So, should I make it a special event? I've heard that some women put out candles, have a hot bath, read some erotic literature, and then start the evening. Should I do that?

Okay, okay, okay, yes, I have masturbated to porn before but not like this. This time I'm looking for a substitute to the real thing to see if that works. Before it was just relieving horniness. Now I'm thinking lifestyle change. I've heard of other people going solo so maybe it's possible.

Of course there are things that will be missing, such as touch, taste, spontaneous words, playfulness, and the biggest thing, another body. Oh, and kissing. No more kissing! That one is going to be tough. Really tough.

Maybe I'm just overthinking this and should just get right into it. But I think a hot bath and a fluffy bathrobe should also be part of the experience.

Bath is done, I'm cozy and warm, even have some candles lit, and the laptop is open. Found some videos that look worthwhile and most of all the women have just the right amount of cuteness and they're looking into the camera. Looks like they're real homemade videos so this should be as realistic as it gets.

Hopefully.

But this kinda feels weird. It's like I'm taking myself out on a date and who prepares themselves for porn? Maybe some people do but it still feels somehow wrong. Maybe I'm just having first date jitters...

Aaaaaah, just do it!

I click play and the video starts. It's over half an hour long so that should be enough time to get warmed up.

She starts out on all fours and looking into the camera with those beautiful eyes of hers.

Yeah, yeah, who's supposed to look at her eyes? Well I do. Looking into someone's eyes while making love with them is super sexy. Of course there have a couple of nights when it was better to close my eyes, if you know what I mean. That's the problem with drinking, standards fall very quickly. Not saying that the other person wasn't a good person but sometimes there was a lot left to be desired.

Just saying.

Anyway the guy, who can only be seen from the chest down, enters her from behind and her eyes close for a second as she grasps.

I like this part, the first entry. There's something magical about the moment two bodies adjust to each other.

Her eyes open and she smiles as he slowly moves behind her.

I wish I was that guy.

His hands travel along her back as he keeps thrusting and she closes her eyes again, letting the feeling wash over her. I can feel a stirring down below as I imagine my hands doing the same to her, feeling her skin, her warmth, and the moistness where our bodies join.

My hands travel down.

She's sexy and enjoying that. I wish I was inside her right now.

He starts thrusting a little faster and a little harder.

My hand moves a little faster as well.

I wonder what she's thinking.

Her eyes open and she stares at the camera, almost as if she knows I'm there.

It's just a video but it's like she can see right into me. Like she's inviting me to be there.

My hand moves faster.

Her head drops to the bed and the sheets scrunch up in her hands. A moan escapes her lips.

A moan escapes mine.

Her hips start moving and she's thrusting them back and forth, while circling them occasionally.

Geez, I want to be there. I so much want to be there.

My other hand reaches out but all only a cold screen awaits. There's no warmth, no sweat, no skin, nothing but that screen under my fingers. The magic diminishes a bit.

Her head tilts and she's looking at the camera again. Her lips form a kiss and she blows it into the camera.

Man, I want to kiss those lips. They're so soft and inviting.

She moans again.

My hand moves faster.

A moan comes from behind her as the guy moves faster.

Oh yeah, him. Crap.

She turns and looks at him, a sensuous smile on her lips, the very same lips that were blowing kisses a few seconds ago. Her hand reaches back as she grabs his buttocks and pulls him deeper into her. Another moan escapes her lips.

That's so hot. I should be there, I should be there.

She turns back to the camera and smiles. Her hips move faster and she throws her head back. Gasps are coming out now.

Moans and gasps are coming out of me as well.

She's getting close and one of her hands reaches between her legs and moves.

My hand moves faster yet. But something in the reality of this just isn't as exciting as it could be. I'm not tasting her, I'm not touching her, she's not moaning for me, all I'm doing is watching what someone already did.

But that doesn't stop what I'm doing even though a little twinge of sadness and jealousy runs through my belly.

I'm simply too close to stop.

And then she peaks.

Her body clenches and twitches as the orgasm washes over her.

At that moment my body responds to hers and I explode, the orgasm washing up and down my spine, my body spasming in time with hers.

Then it's over. For her and me. The video ends.

I'm spent and lying on sweat-soaked sheets, cool air blowing over my skin. And in this moment I realize how alone I am and all that preparation didn't even help. There is no one to snuggle up to afterwards and no one to say sweet words. There's only a cold computer screen to keep me company.

Porn as a substitute really, really sucks.

## YOU'VE GOT A WHAT???

Since I'm not doing so well in regular venues I've decided to try something new and found an event that looks interesting. It's a fetish costume party and from the pictures of the previous parties it looks really good. Plus the cover charge is pretty cheap.

If those pictures are anything to go by it'll be a blast. One of the requirements is that a person has to have some sort of fetish outfit and I know I can make some sort of fetish gear pretty easily, and maybe if if everything goes right I'll get lucky. After all there are a whole lot of almost naked people.

Found this event while surfing for amateur videos the other week. Who says looking at porn is all bad?

Got all of the stuff and the costume is done. The thrift store had some good deals and I picked up some fake leather pants and a jacket real cheap! Plus I also got a Zorro mask! The pants are a little small but I've made some well placed cuts that help the pants to expand. It looks good if I do say so myself.

And I look pretty hot in them.

There's no way I'm not going to get noticed. And getting noticed means that I'll probably get laid too.

Yes, way better than porn!

The lineup extends past the building but it's moving fairly quickly so I should get in soon. I'm somewhere in the middle checking people out when a really cute little brunette comes over and stands beside me. She's pretty, comes up to my shoulder, and is wearing very sexy, very string-like lingerie. Not much is left to the imagination but what is left is making me to really, really want to know more. I may be flattering myself and she might be trying to use me to cut in line but I don't care. She looks me up and down, stops at my eyes, holds out her hand and grins. "Hi, I'm Tasmana."

I take her hand and kiss her fingers, "And I'm honoured."

A sly smile plays across her lips, "I bet you are. And your name is?"

Play this cool. "Is it important?"  I gaze directly into her eyes, "After all it would take the mystery out of it."

Her eyes flick across my face for a few seconds, then "No, I guess it isn't. But what am I supposed to call you when we're at my place later?"

YESSSSSSSS!!! But still keep it cool. "Whatever you wish. I'll be your fantasy."

Her smile suddenly widens and somehow becomes even more sly. "I'll probably be more of a fantasy for you than you will be for me."

Okaaaaay. But whatever that means it sounds really good! I kiss her fingers again, "If you say so pretty lady. But we should find that one out later."  The line starts moving again and we walk forward.

We get to the door and she turns to me, "I have to get something but I'll meet you inside okay?"

Oh crap, just got burned. "Sure,"--my mood evaporates--"see you inside."  I have to admit that she's got a very sexy walk as she heads off in another direction. What I don't understand is why she picked me to go in with and then walked away. Weird.

I still go inside.

With what just happened I can't help but think tonight was going to be awesome and easy, but guess not. Oh well, guess I can't have everything and the night is just starting. Not my night to be lucky right off the bat so I might as well get a drink and see what else there is. I doubt Tasmana will be back.

But I should have told her my name and not tried to play it so mysteriously. I'm such an idiot.

There's a few drinks in me and I'm feeling pretty good. Okay, I'm feeling REALLY good! Been dancing a little, sometimes with other people and sometimes by myself. No luck with the women though. Maybe it has something to do with the little bit of stumbling I'm doing now and then. It's probably making my dance moves a bit rough and not look as cool as I'd like.

Anyway, I've got to go to the bathroom and the night is almost over. Tasmana didn't show up and needless to say I'm feeling a little bit sorry for myself but right now peeing takes precedence.

I've got a pretty good stream going and trying to break up the little deodorant puck when a stall door opens behind me. Suddenly I hear "Hey sexy stranger!"

I know that voice! I quickly clench my butt cheeks, stop the flow, zip up and turn around. "Tasmana! Hey!"  I wrap my arms around her, "I thought you had dumped me."

She pushes me back, "It took longer than I thought. I was just coming out to look for you."

That's awesome! I'm going to get la--uh, wait a minute. "Uh, what are you doing in the men's washroom?"

A big smile plasters itself across her face, "I don't like doing normal things. You okay with that?"

DARN RIGHT I AM! "Yeah, I'm good."

"It looks like you're better than good. Being enjoying yourself?"

"Quite a bit actually."

"I can tell. Well, are you ready to go?"

Last called passed anyway. "Yup!"  Time to get lucky!

We wash our hands (have to be hygienic) and she wraps her arm around mine as we head out the door.

We're cuddling on the couch behind the coffee table while her roommate Candace is on the other couch in front. The coffee table between us holds neat lines of coke.

"This is why it took so long before I found you. My dealer was out and I had to find someone else."

Oh.

"Have you ever done coke before?"

"No, but my brother had. He said that he had eyes in the back of his head and once he had a thought that was all he could think of."

Tasmana laughs, "That's pretty weird."

I laugh as well, "Yeah, but because of that I've wanted to try it."

Her hand gently moves back and forth along my thigh, "Well now's your chance."

Yes, yes it is. I'm drunk, gonna snort coke, and get laid. THIS IS AWESOME!!! "I've never done this before so what do I do?"

She leans over and her lips meet mine. Our tongues quickly follow and suddenly nothing else exists.

"HEY! Are we going to do this or are you two going to tongue dance all night long?"  Candace is impatient and wants to get this party started.

Geez Candace, do you really have to do this now? But she is quite attractive and if I could figure out how to get into a threesome, well...

Tasmana breaks off the kiss, laughing. "Okay, we can tongue dance later." Leaning over she snorts a line up her nose. Candace follows right after.

Well, it's my turn. Here goes nothing. I lean over an inhale. And my left nostril goes numb.

COOOOOOOOOOOL!

Tasmana does another line and so does Candace. Then it's my turn. I lean down again and inhale with the other nostril. It loses feeling too.

This is so awesome!

It doesn't take long before the coke is gone. I don't know if anything is different but I do like the alternating numb nostrils.

I'm easy to please sometimes.

We talk some more and finally Tasmana takes my hand and stands up, "Time to go to bed."

Yes, definitely time to go to bed... I stand up as Tasmana lets go of my hand, "I've got to go to the little girl's room and you can go into my bedroom. It's the first door on the left."  She heads down the hallway.

As I start to move a hand grasps mine. I look down and get pulled onto the couch where Candace kisses me. She looks deep into my eyes, "When you're done with her come and do me next."

OHHHHHHHHH WOOOOOOOOOOOW! "Uh, sure. Be glad too."  She gives me one more kiss and I get up, going into Tasmana's bedroom.

I'll wait until Tasmana is asleep and then sneak out to Candace. It's not a threesome but it'll do.

I lay down just as Tasmana walks into the bedroom. She's fit, cute, nice perky breasts, and the only thing she's wearing are panties and a smile.

I'm really gonna enjoy this.

Drugs, sex, and rock n' roll. Life just doesn't get better.

She straddles me and leans over my face, "Are you ready?"

You betcha! "Yup, I'm all yours."

Our lips meet again and this time they burn.

I've got to get home. I need to be home. Home is where I should be. My feet move faster.

Geez, this feels wrong! I should just blow my brains out. If I had a gun...

WAIT!!! No, I can't kill myself, that's stupid!

I slow down.

No, I should. What I did is wrong.

Geez, I need someone to talk me out of this stupidity. Who can I--oh, maybe Vanessa can help me. We're exes but she should still be able to help me.

My feet pick up the pace again.

Yeah, Vanessa can help. If she can't I don't know what I'm going to do. All I know is that I can't live with this.

It's four in the morning but I have to make this call.

The voice on the other end of the phone is pretty sleepy. "Hello?"

"Vanessa it's me, I need help."

Suddenly she's not so sleepy. "What's wrong?"

"Did I wake you?"

"Of course you woke me up! What's the matter? Are you drunk?"

"I want to blow my brains out."

Silence for a few seconds and then "Why?"

I hope this doesn't sound stupid. "I went to a nightclub and met a girl named Tasmana. After the club closed we ended up getting some coke and then going back to her place."

"Now you're doing coke?"

"NO! I mean yes, just once, an hour ago. I won't do it again I promise!"

"Okay, what happened?"

"Well, we went to her bedroom and started getting intimate. You know I like to take my time and about half an hour later I reach down and she's got a dick bigger than mine."

There's dead silence and then laughter erupts out of the phone. Finally she calms down, "So what did you do?"

"NOTHING! I got dressed and LEFT!"

More silence. Then "Is that why we broke up? Because you're gay?"

WHAT?????? "NO, I'M NOT GAY!!!"

"But you picked up a woman with a penis. Sounds gay to me."

"VANESSA, I'M NOT GAY!!!"

"Maybe you are and just are experimenting."

GEEZ VANESSA!!! "VANESSA, I'M NOT GAY!!!"

"Then why did you pick up a woman with a penis?"

"Because I didn't know she had one and now I feel really bad! I want to blow my brains out."  I really really do.

"Just calm down, it's the coke talking. But if you're gay it's okay."  There's silence for a few more seconds, then "That definitely would explain some things."

AAAAAAAAAAAA!!!! "I'm not gay!!! I'm drunk, high on coke, and want to blow my brains out!"

"Then why did we break up?"

GEEZ!!! "Because I'm a friggin' idiot! You happy now?"

A small chuckle comes out of the phone, "Well, I guess I'll have to be."

"VANESSA,THIS ISN'T FUNNY! I WANT TO KILL MYSELF!"

"Just calm down. Go to bed and in the morning if you feel the same way give me a call. But I think once the booze and coke wear off you'll be fine."

I hope so. "Are you sure?"

"It'll be fine. Just get some sleep."

"Thanks Vanessa, I owe you one."  As I'm about to hang up I hear "Who's calling at this time in the morning?" "It's my ex boyfriend mom." "Why's he calling?" "He's drunk again and wanted to tell me he's gay."  Click.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!

## GOTTA GET ONLINE

So yeah, the fetish party didn't work out so well. Okay, so I had a little too much to drink but you can't blame me for that. And she WAS cute. I'm not against her but she's not the one for me.

The worst part about all of it is that the hangover lasted two days. Must have had something to do with the coke but geez I'm such a lightweight. I've never had much tolerance to alcohol. Half a bottle of beer and I'm feeling really good but after that I can drink like a fish. I don't have any desire to drink everyday but whenever I walk into a bar I usually stumble out with empty pockets.

Although I never drink alone. I won't do that.

Well, enough about my binging. I know it's a problem but one I'm not ready to deal with yet.

So now I'm thinking that maybe instead of trying to find someone in a club I should try a dating site. After all I keep hearing how easy it is to get laid online. Just have to slap up a good profile, lie a little, and I should be good to go. It sounds cheap but what else am I going to do? Getting drunk and meeting strangers is a little dangerous right now. I can't even look at a woman without seeing if she walks like a man.

So how should I go about doing this? I don't want to waste money on something that might not work, especially since my luck hasn't been so good lately. I guess my best bet is to try one of those free sites.

After a bit of searching www.freeandeasydatesonline.com pops up. No charges, well except for some premium stuff I don't want anyway, the profile is easy to set up, and I don't have to answer a bunch of those annoying profile questionnaires. Like who cares what colour fruit I like best??? That's just stupid.

Okay, now that I'm here the beginning of the profile is about me. First thing is to set up is a username.

Hmmm. Oh, how about Smooth_as_silk69? That sounds pretty cool. Sauve too.

Next is age, height, etc. I'm not going to lie because it'll all be obvious when I meet someone anyway. I don't need a reputation as a lying loser.

Not that I need a reputation as a truthful loser either...

Now for some other questions.

Are you male, female, or other?

Other, there's an OTHER? I click on other simply because I'm curious. It comes up with a list of descriptions of which most I've never heard of. But I guess I'll go with male because multisexual alien lifeforms aren't listed.

Gotta have fun with this!

Next question. What are you looking for?

My keys actually. I lost them this morning but they're probably around here somewhere. But this isn't a key finding site so that answer is out. I do wish they had multisexual alien lifeforms as an option because meeting one of those would be seriously cool. And I probably should stop reading scifi porn.

Anyway, multisexual alien lifeforms aren't on the list so 'casual relationship' it is. Start out casual and see where it goes from there.

Are you willing to date a woman with children?

Hmmm, yeah sure. In case of a zombie apocalypse we'll need a food supply. One must plan ahead. But I can't say that, just check the yes box.

How would you classify yourself on a drinking scale? Teetotaller, social drinker, moderate drinker, or candidate for a liver replacement?

Definitely social drinker. I'm VERY social when I drink!

Would you date a woman who drinks?

NO WAY! Are you kidding me! That's just crazy!!!

Just kidding, of course I would.

Do you smoke?

Only in bed, that's what the girlies tell me anyway. Heh heh. Nope.

Would you date someone that smokes?

Not really, I don't like the smell. Whiskey breath is cool, smoker breath not so much.

Are you single, married, divorced, separated, other?

Other. Multisexual alien lifeform.

What three things are you looking for in a partner?

Willingness, loads of money, and the ability to be be very forgiving. Independence, intelligence, and humour

What three traits best describe you?

Independence, intelligence, and humour

What are three of your best qualities?

Answering online dating profile questions, drinking, and not throwing up on my shoes. I've thrown up on other peoples' shoes but not mine. Being able to learn quickly, able to handle any situation, and willpower.

What are four things your friends say about you?

I owe them money, they hate me because I can out-drink them, they love my fashion sense, and no, I really don't have any friends. I'm funny, reliable, honest, and very outgoing.

How do you spend your leisure time?

Filling out stupid online profile dating questions. I like to go to the beach, hang out with friends, and meet new people.

What are you most passionate about?

Trying not to go home alone. Meeting someone who'll be my soulmate.

Name three things you dislike.

This one is easy. Dishes, dishes, and dishes. Sometimes a person just has to be completely honest.

Do you have a car?

Why, so they can steal it? No.

Have you ever been arrested?

What is this, a job interview??? No. Not that I'd admit to it anyway.

Oh hey, that was the last question! Time to write something cool.

"Ladies, ladies, ladies, you can stop your search because I've arrived! No more wasting your time with those other loser profiles because I'm the all-in-one package you've been looking for. And I'm not going to lie to you or dump you after the first time we have sex. Only douchebags do that and I'm not a douchebag. I also like to have a good time so going out with me is like a never ending party so you're never going to be bored. AND I'll make sure you get home when you've drank too much! That's the awesome kind of guy I am.(lol)

Those other guys just want to get in your pants, we all know that. And why? Do they like dressing up in your clothes? I personally say leave the pants off so that way I'm not tempted (lol). Besides, your pants would probably make my butt look fat.(lol lol lol)

But seriously, we'll make a good match, those profile questions don't mean anything. After all we'll just have to get to know each other in person anyway so why judge anything by some stupid questions? I'd rather meet you than try to figure you out from some writing on the internet and I'm sure you want to do the same. After all we're intelligent people.

I like walks in the park, sunsets, moonlit strolls along the beach, warm fuzzy kisses, and cuddling, lots and lots of cuddling. There is nothing that beats warm skin next to each other, well maybe hot, sweaty skin, but we can leave that out on the first date because we should just get to know each other first. (The second date though...)(lol).

So hit me up and if you have any questions just ask. I'll tell you anything you want to know. Well, almost anything. There was that one time I... Nope, not the time and place for that here. Maybe once we get to know each other.

I'm gonna get so many requests that I won't have time to answer them all so your message had better catch my attention or you're out of the game. Sorry, nothing personal but I can't be wasting my time with everyone.

Talk to you soon."

Yeah, that should do it. It's a bit cocky, oozes confidence, funny, and I'm laying it out all on the table. The girls are going to be all over this. I wonder if I will have time for all of this dating? But then again I'll be able to pick and chose.

Now I just need to--oh crap, forgot a picture! Uhhhhh, oh, the one of me at the rock concert should be good. I'm laughing, around people, and not too drunk.

Yeah, that'll work.

I press the Finish button. All of it uploads and now I just have to do is sit back and let the messages roll in.

It doesn't take long before a message appears in my inbox, only a couple of hours actually. I'm excited, nervous, happy, and already thinking of the things we're going to do together.

I click on the mailbox icon and the message pops up.

<You're one of the most arrogant people I've seen on here.>

What? Who does she think she is? I click on her picture and it takes me to her profile. Ah, she's not that great. I don't care if she's a fitness instructor, she thinks too highly of herself. And that part about her helping out with stray animals is probably just a lie to get guys to like her. Not going to waste my time.

By the time I finish reading her profile another message appears in my inbox.

<I wouldn't date you if you were the last man on earth.>

I'm not even going to go to her profile. Instead this is what I send: <I wouldn't date you either, not with an attitude like that. No wonder you're single. GET A LIFE.>

Geez,they're rude. Dating sites shouldn't allow people like that. There should be standards somewhere.

What is wrong with these people? Try to be funny and they jump all over you. No wonder these people are on dating sites, they obviously can't get a person in real life. Especially with those kinds of attitudes, making judgments even before meeting someone. It can't my profile because it's cool and confident. I've done what those dating guys websites say on how to write a profile and they're successful. I probably just got the man-haters so I should't worry about it too much. The next ones will be better but I'm going to shut it down for the day. I have better things to do than be dissed.

Morning again and there's another message in the inbox.

<Your not funy (lol lol lol)>

WHAT'S UP WITH THESE PEOPLE??? Do they get some sort of weird kick out of putting people down? This time I go to her profile and read it. It sucks. I reply to her message.

<Neither are you and your profile sucks(lol lol lol). AND LEARN TO SPELL!!! Your lack of education makes you look stupid. It should be 'You're not funny'. Good luck trying to find someone here.> Send. Click.

A bit of remorse hits as I click the send button. Maybe I shouldn't be so mean but they're being mean to me. Besides, they deserve a taste of their own medicine.

Somehow I've become a negativity magnet. Why those women have to bring people down and focus on me is beyond my understanding. I didn't do anything to them and if they don't like it why can't they just move on? Maybe I should go looking instead of waiting for them to come to me. I should be able to control who I talk to and making the first move shows initiative and confidence.

So I search.

There are a lot of women here and--hey, this one looks good! I click on the picture. Half her face is in shadow, lending a mysterious air, making her really sexy. This is a woman I'd like to--ACK!!! It's Tasmana!!!

Geez, I hope that doesn't show up on her search profile. I don't want her to think I'm interested!

I go back to the search and more interesting women pop up. I click on a picture and read her profile.

Hey, she likes parties, funny guys, and enjoying life. We'll make a good match. I send a message. <Hey, 'sup?>

But I won't stop at one. No sense putting all of my eggs in one basket. I click on another picture and send another message. <How are you?>

Next picture. <What are you up to?>

Next picture. <Hey, you're pretty.>

This next profile is interesting. She likes puppies, beaches, and ice cream. I definitely know how to answer this one. <We go together like licking and ice cream. And I'd like to lick you like your puppy does.>

I'm so funny! She'll definitely respond to that one.

And she does.

<Do you think I have sex with my dog? Don't message me again. If you do I'll block you.>

What??? That's not what I meant! Geez what a weirdo.

Back to the searching. After a bit more Vanessa, my ex, pops up.

What's she doing on here? I thought she was way too cool for this kind of thing. We had some good times together. Why did I have to be so stupid and screw it up? She's such a nice person and we would have had a good life together. I click on her picture. It'll be interesting to know what's on her profile and I start to read. Then I get to the end.

"I just recently found out that my ex boyfriend is gay so if any of you guys are leaning in that direction please don't message me. I don't want my heart broken again."

GEEZ VANESSA!!! I quickly send a message. <I'M NOT GAY!!!>

This is enough for one day, online dating can be so brutal. Maybe tomorrow will be better.

In the past few days all that I got was;

<Any luck with your profile loser?>

<Hi, you suck.>

<You're why online dating sites get a bad rep.>

<Why don't you say that you're here just for sex. At least be honest about it.>

Just because people think they're anonymous doesn't give them the right to be mean. But I do reply to the last one. At least she's not badly trashing me.

<You're right, I'd like to have sex. I miss having a warm body beside me, sweat dripping off of our bodies, the way you smell, taste and sound. Want to get together?>

The sweat dripping part should get her interest.

A message appears in less than thirty seconds.

<I like sex too but not with you. Goodbye.>

I just can't seem to win...

A few more days of sending messages and not getting replies is not making me happy. I'm giving it my best and it's not working.

<What's a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?>

<Hey baby, I can rock your world.>

<Wanna get drunk together?>

<Your profile or mine?>

<Say no and you'll seriously be missing out.>

I'm not being rude or mean in the messages but I'm still not getting any answers. I guess I could read their profiles and try to tailor my messages to that but that's too much work and how do I know it's real? Besides, when you meet someone in a bar you say hi, not text me the details of your life so I can talk to you. Online dating shouldn't be different than real life.

It's been two weeks and I want to give up. This online stuff is stupid. I've tried changing pictures, messaging people, starting chats, and joining forums but nothing is happening. I should just shut down my profile and take my chances in the real world again.

Then a message pops up.

<I like cuddling too.>

FINALLY!!! I head over to her profile. She's not bad, not model material or anything but she'll do. I guess I have start somewhere.

Oh, that sounds really bad, doesn't it? That's not what I mean. I mean that I should start out with more realistic expectations and once I have enough experience with this online stuff then I can go higher. No sense trying to start at the top, we all have to learn somehow.

So I send her a message. <It's the best isn't it?> But the way things have been going she probably won't write back.

She writes back. <It is, especially after really sweaty sex.>

Yessss! I might have a chance! <Do you like to stay sweaty or do you shower before cuddling?>

But that's it  There's no reply.

Hope I didn't push it too hard.

But there's a message when I wake up.

<Why don't we find out?>

FINALLY!!!!!!!!!! <Yes, why don't we?>

<Name the time and place.>

I have to come up with something cool. Can't let her think I'm lame. <How about a midnight picnic at the beach this weekend?>

<I like that. Where do we meet?>

<At the kiosk by the dock. I'll be wearing>\--uh, what WILL I be wearing???\--<black jogging shorts and a black T-shirt.>

<Going ninja huh? I'll be going commando.>

This is going to be a good night! <See you then>

<See you then.>

It's ten minutes to midnight and I hope she shows up. I've been here an hour trying not to be nervous and forgot to ask her what she'll be wearing. I don't know who she is or how to identify her even if there are no other people around. And--oh geez I forgot to ask her name!!! What if that's not a real picture on her profile?

I seriously hope she'll be the only one showing up. If she shows up...

A car pulls into the parking lot and the headlights light me up and then go off. The door opens and she steps out into the streetlight.

Whew, that is her real picture. She's wearing a black sun dress that stops just below her thighs. She went ninja too.

I step into the light and she comes up to me, "Well here we are."

A smile bends my lips, "Yes, we are."  I turn and point to a picnic basket on a table, "I made something in case you're hungry."

She picks up the basket and puts it on the ground. Lifting her dress over her shoulders she lays down on the table, "I'm hungry, but not for what's in that basket."

She definitely didn't lie about going commando.

I drop my clothes and bend over her, our lips almost touching, "I hope I can satisfy you the way you need."

Her legs and arms wrap around me, "I'm sure you will."  She pulls me into a kiss.

<Do you want to get together again sometime? The beach was awesome.>

<Sorry I can't, I'm busy this week.>

<What about next week?>

<Busy then too.>

Is she brushing me off? <How about you name a time?>

<No, I'm good thanks.>

<You don't want to see me any more?>

<What we did was just a one time thing. I just broke up with my boyfriend and wanted to get laid.>

Ouch. <Okay. It was nice meeting you and thank you for the beach.>

She doesn't answer back.

Well, at least I got laid. Laid, then dumped. Guess that counts for something.

Which was good. Because two months later it's like I disappeared into online dating oblivion. Nobody introduces themselves or responds to my messages no matter how hard I try.

I delete my profile.

## EVERY GOOD PARTY HAS TO HAVE A THEME

It's been a while and I'm not feeling so good. I've been coming home alone for quite a while now, women don't want to date me, and I have no idea what is going on. Things just aren't working out and I've just done something that I said I'd never do. I bought a bottle and got hammered.

At home.

Alone.

Something I'd never do. Ever, ever, ever. And I did it. Not a good sign.

But hopefully it was just once and there is no way I can do it again. What I DO need to do is throw a party and cheer myself up. And since every good party needs a theme I'm going to call it They Don't Know What They're Missing Party.

I read the theme thing in an old book about manners and socializing. I was bored that day and it looked interesting.

Yes, it'll just be a bunch of us getting really drunk but at least we've got a reason and I'm not the only person getting shot down. It happens a lot more than we know but it's still not a good feeling to be in that crowd. It would be nice to be in the crowd where being shot down is rare but I don't know how to join. Maybe someday but today isn't it. Today is the day to wallow in self pity and PARTY!!!

The music is rockin', people are drinking, laughter and good times fill the room, and this is the best place to be.

Gary, six foot six and extremely hammered, starts to conga to the music even though metal is screaming out of the speakers. But however he's doing it it's working. With a thump-thump-stomp, thump-thump-stomp, he moves around the living room grabbing people and pushing them into the conga line. They're snaking through the house, Gary singing at the top of his lungs, the rest of the line stomping their feet and singing as well. The volume of this party goes up to eleven.

Gary suddenly stops and people run into each other. He turns around, "QUIET! YOU'RE TOO LOUD!"  Facing forward again he starts singing at the top of his voice while thump-thump-stomping. It takes only seconds before everyone else joins in.

Gary stops once more and turns around, "QUIET! YOU'RE STILL TOO LOUD!"  Once again he faces forward and starts singing and dancing. I don't know what's going on in his head but it's seriously funny.

This time the people in the line start a little bit quieter but it doesn't take long before the noise goes back to eleven. Gary stops once more and breaks away from the line, "You guys are too loud!"  Then he walks to a doorway and stands in it, glaring at the crowd.

I have no idea what he's talking about since he's louder than most of us combined. Oh well, it's a party and we're not going to stop for him.

Thump-thump-stomp, thump-thump-stomp, thump-thump-stomp, we're dancing like idiots. Gary shakes his head and leans against the doorway staring at his feet, looking confused. He's seriously drunk and I think he's forgotten how to move them.

But I'm drunk and he looks so morose that laughter bellows out of me while I thump-thump-stomp, thump-thump-stomp.

Thump-thump-stomp, thump-thump-stomp-WHOOPS! Gary's foot is under my mine when I come down hard. That has to hurt!

He looks at his foot, then at me, his eyes glazed over. He breaks into a smile, "RUSH!!! DO it again!"

Uh what? Stomp on his foot again? Okaaaay... I stomp and he breaks into an even bigger grin, "RUSH! I almost felt that one! Do it again!"

Wow, Gary is really hammered. But hey, his call. "Hey everyone"--I stomp down again--"Gary wants us to stomp on his foot. We should all have a turn so line up and go for it!"  I step back since this is going to be so interesting to watch.

Laughter breaks out as STOMP! "RUSH!" fills the room. Everyone is having a good time and I honestly hope that Gary doesn't end up with a broken foot.

But if he does he asked for it.

The line moves pretty quickly and finally there's only one person left. He backs up as far as he can go, breaks into a run and launches himself into the air. He's going to make this count...

A loud SMACK! fills the room as his head hits the top of the door frame, his body straightening out like Superman flying on his back feet first. He flies into the kitchen hitting the floor with a thud and slides underneath the kitchen table, coming to a stop as his feet hit the wall. He's not moving.

I rush into the kitchen and bend down under the table, "Byron, you okay?!?!?"

A small moan escapes his lips and then a "Fuck that hurt."

Standing up I face the rest of crowd, "He's good. A little stupid but good."  A cheer goes around the room and everyone except Gary, who's still staring at his feet, move back into the living room to resume drinking. Gary looks at me, a huge grin on his face, "Ha, I didn't feel a thing!"  He saunters off into the living room to join the party.

A whole lot of stupid and drunkenness, this party has it all.

Byron moans again and I give him a quick glance to make sure he's okay, then go into the living room. I've got serious partying to do.

There's one spot left to sit down and it's beside Chandra, a girl I've wanted for a while. I sit down and offer her a drink. She guzzles half my beer and wipes her lips. "Thanks."  She hands it back to me.

"No problem."  I hope she doesn't do that with all of my beer.

Getting off of the couch she sits down on the glass coffee table facing me, "This is a great party!"  She grabs my beer again and downs the rest of it. As soon as it's empty she slams the bottle down on the coffee table.

Which is the wrong thing to do.

The table shatters and she hits the floor. I quickly stand up and offer her my hand. It doesn't look like she's bleeding as she grabs onto me and pulls herself up, a horrified expression on her face, "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it! I'll pay for it!"

"Nah, don't worry about it, it's all good."  I got the table for free anyway and if she thinks I'm okay with this I might get laid tonight.

She wraps me in a hug, "You're awesome! Let's get more beer!"  She grabs my hand and we go into the kitchen.

Sweet! This is gonna work and I'll clean up the glass later.

She picks up the ceramic ship piggy bank on top of the fridge. I collect old coins and put them in there.

"What's this?"

"Just a piggy bank I put old coins in."

"Cool!"  The ship turns in her her hands as she looks at it. Then "How do you open "--SMASH! The bank shatters as it hits the floor.

Her eyes go wide as she stares at me, "I'm so sorry! I don't know what happened! It just slipped out of my hands!"

REALLY??? Oh well, just let it go. I can get another piggy bank. Don't blow this. "No worries, I can get another one."  I pick the coins and ship pieces off of the floor. The coins go into a jar out of her reach and the pieces go into the garbage. As I turn back she's opened the cupboard door and is holding one of my antique beer steins. I've been collecting them for years and they're my pride and joy. She had better not break it! "Uh, be careful with that."

She turns, "What?"  As she does the beer stein slips from her fingers...

She looks down at the pieces, at me, and then shrugs, "I'm sorry. I won't do it again."  Turning to the fridge she opens it, "Which beer is yours?"

I'm staring at the beer stein and fury overwhelms me. The coffee table was free, I can get another piggy bank, but this? No way. NO FREAKIN' WAY!!! The fury erupts. "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING????"

The beer drops from her hand as she turns to me, startled. Fortunately the bottle is still closed as it hits the ground. Turning, she runs from the kitchen crying. There is no way that getting laid is worth this. No way.

I clean up the mess and grab the beer off of the floor. Popping the cap it sprays all over me but I don't care. I'm mad and going to drink it off. Walking into the living room I grab the broom and start sweeping up the glass. Chandra is sitting with her friend, crying. She looks at me, "Why don't you like me?"

REALLY??? But I hold my tongue and look at her friend, who just rolls her eyes. She knows the story so I don't say anything, going back to cleaning. The rest of the party people take one look and go back to partying. After all they're here to have fun and a little destruction isn't going to stop them. I would agree if it wasn't my things being destroyed.

When I come back into the living room after emptying the glass in the garbage Chandra and her friend are gone. I sit down beside Mike, "Where'd Chandra go?"

"She says you hate her and that she's not going to stay where she's not liked."

I roll my eyes, "Yeah, well I'd like her a lot more if she wasn't trashing my house."

He breaks into laughter, "Yeah, I feel for you. I know how much those beer steins mean to you but I have to admit you've got a lot of control. I would have freaked as soon as she broke the table."

I have to laugh as well, "I guess I'm stupid because I wanted to get laid and I thought she would feel guilty and later give me some."

"I think she would have if you hadn't freaked out on her. But I don't know, she seems a little dangerous."

"Yeah, I guess so. I mean with all of the stuff she broke she probably would have broke my dick as well."

Beer shoots out of his nose as he bursts into laughter, everyone around laughing as well.

This party rocks!

I'm starting to feel good again and not just from the beer. I'm around a lot of fun people and we're here enjoying the moment. Tomorrow is another matter but it isn't here yet so there's no reason to worry about it. Besides it's not a big deal if I don't get laid tonight, there'll be other days. So I guess I'm going to drink my face off instead.

And I have just the thing for it.

Getting off of the couch I walk into my bedroom. Some guy and girl who I don't know are making out but I don't care. At least someone is getting to use my bed. Opening the closet door I reach into the back where a tall, thin box is leaning up against the wall. This little surprise is going to make this party rock even harder.

I turn around and the guy is looking at me so I might as well say hello. "Hey."

"Hey buddy, do you mind leaving? I'm kind of busy here."  The girl is a little hesitant.

Geez, what a dick. I walk to the side of the bed and look down at him, "Sure, but before you start telling people what to do you should really find out who owns the bed you're making out on."

His chest puffs out as he sits up, "You can't tell me what to do!"

I put the box down by the door and lean down so I'm in his face, "Why yes I can. This is my house and my bed. All of those people out there"--I point to the living room--"are my friends and if I ask each and every one of them will come in here and drag you into the back yard and beat you into a bloody pulp."  His eyes widen. "But I'm not going to do that because I've decided to have a really good time tonight. So enjoy the herpes moment you're gonna give to that pretty girl but don't make my bed messy or we WILL take turns pummelling you into the ground."  I go to the door and pick up the box, turning back to him, "And I'm going to find out who you are. You're never invited back here again and if you do try to show up you won't be walking out."  I walk out, closing the door behind me. Suddenly there's a muffled "You didn't say anything about herpes, you said it was just a cold sore!"  I burst into laughter.

In the living room I hold up the box, "Okay everyone, we're going to kick this party into overdrive so get your beer and bring it over! But before we do that does anyone know the guy in my bedroom?"

A woman holds up her hand, "I do. He's kind of a jerk and I didn't want him to come but I didn't have anyone else to come with."

"Okay, I'll talk with you later. I just want to know who he is so he doesn't come back again. You on the other hand can come back any time you want!"  She throws a big smile my way. I reach into the box and pull out a half yard ale glass, "It's contest time! And I'm giving twenty bucks to the fastest drinker! Any takers?"  Hands go up. It's not like we really need an excuse to drink but it is kind of fun throwing gas on the fire. "Okay, I'll go first since it's my half yard. Someone got a stopwatch?"  I fill it up as Mike pulls out his phone and gives me the thumbs up. He yells "GO!" and I tilt the glass to my lips.

## DANCING CAN'T BE THIS EASY

Time to hang out in country bars. Country music, an excuse for a whole lot of touching, and not in a creepy way, seems like an easy way to meet women. Unfortunately I can't two step to save my life. Trance, Dubstep, Melbourne Shuffle, a little Ballet, and Salsa, but two step or line dance? Not a hope. But maybe there'll be some young lady that would be nice enough to teach me. Dancing, drinking, two-stepping (hopefully not on toes), and holding each other close sounds like a recipe for magic.

That's the plan anyways.

But no hat, cowboy boots, or belt buckle bigger than my head. There are limits. And I have my pride.

Besides, I grew up in a country town and know what real ranchers and farmers look like. They're not drugstore cowboys.

Other than that, yeehaw!

This place looks good. Lots of cowgirls and the music isn't thaaaaat bad. Even though I won't wear a cowboy hat I'm not begrudging the women that do. Since they're so pretty in them how can a person argue with that? I'm here to make friends, not enemies.

Just from a quick glance there are a few women moving their hips, looking like they're interested in dancing. Hopefully they're also the teaching kind. I mosey on over to them. "Hey, any of you ladies want to dance?"

They check me out and one of them smiles, "I hope you're good on your feet because I'm ready to two-step all night!"

Awesome! One of them is willing to go. Now for the tricky part. "Well, I can't two-step that well but I'm more than willing to learn if you want to teach me."

Her smile drops a little, "How well can you dance?"

"Um, not at all? Not that I can't dance but country dancing is not one of my skill sets."

The smile disappears, "Thank you but I'll pass."

Crap. This might be harder than I thought. Time to get a drink.

Fresh beer in hand I spot a place to sit down, which is at the bar table that goes around the dance floor. It's a front row seat to all of the action and maybe can from there I can learn by watching.

The little lady that decided to not be my dance partner gets on the dance floor with some guy in a hat bigger than his car and they start to move. That hat ain't slowing him down none and they both move pretty good, synchronizing with each other. If I could dance like that no woman in this place would be able to resist me. But they're definitely out of my league and maybe there are some other couples who are moving a bit slower that I can learn from.

Why yes there are. But they're not moving as slow as I would like so it's kind of hard to watch their feet. Oh well, maybe the next song will be easier. Besides, my beer is empty and it's time to get another one.

Five empty beer bottles sit beside my elbow and I'm still not getting this two step thing. It looks easy but for some reason it just isn't making any sense. I've tried practising while getting more beer but no luck, my feet just aren't learning and I don't know why because the basic step looks sort of like a modified waltz. We had to do the waltz in school and I wasn't great at that either but at least I could do it.

Maybe I could try faking it. After all there's really just a lot of gliding and spinning and I'm pretty sure I can do that. But I'll have another beer or two first and watch a little bit more. Maybe something will finally sink in once I'm loosened up.

Three more empty bottles sit beside the other five so that's probably enough loosing up. I've decided I'm going to modify the little bit of ballroom dancing I know. Hopefully whoever dances with me won't be able to tell the difference.

I'm not as steady as I'd like getting off the stool but at least I'm pretty limber. There's a guy and two women at a table, the guy and one woman deep in conversation, the other woman looking around trying not to be a second thumb.

I think I found my new dance partner.

She watches as I walk up to her and the other two look up when I get to the table. "Hey guys! I was wondering if this pretty little lady"--my smile widens in a huge way as I lock eyes with her--"would like to do a little dancin'?"

She takes my hand and stands up, "I'm Denise and would love too!"  Leading me on to the dance floor she looks really happy, almost relieved, but the guy at the table is staring at me like I'm messin' with his woman.

Whatever dude. She's dancing with me and not you.

Denise wraps her arm around me pulling my focus back to her, "Are you ready?"

As ready as I'll ever be. "Yup!"  I hope this works.

And off we go.

The beer and ballroom dancing mixture is working because we're moving around the dance floor like we've been doing this all of our lives. It ain't exactly country but it's darn close.

And a lot of fun too!

Our dance skills get put to the test for another three songs before Denise says "How about we sit down. I'm a little thirsty."

Yeah, me too. "Sure, and thank you for the dance, it was fun! Maybe we can dance again?"

"I'd like that."

We get to my stool, "Well, I'll come and get you a little later if you want "

Her eyes get big as she checks out the empty bottles, "Are you by yourself??"

Uh oh. "Yup."  She's going to leave because I drank too much.

"Why don't you sit with us?"

Sweet! "Okay."

We get to her table and some new guys are flirting pretty heavily with the other girl. The original guy does not look happy and looks less happy once I show up. I hold out my hand to him, "Hey!" Hopefully being friendly will help.

He shakes my hand, "Hey, I'm Jonathon" and I tell him my name. Then he looks at the woman sitting beside him, "This is Cynthia and I have no idea who these guys are. They just showed up." Those guys don't even bother to look at me or him and just keep talking to Cynthia.

These guys are rude. Don't need to get to know them. "Since I'm the new guy here how about I buy you guys a drink?" Jonathon is now a little happier. I go to the bar and get only three beer since I think I already have one on the table. I sit down and put the beer in front of Denise, Jonathon, and Cynthia.

Jonathon grabs his, "Thanks."

"You're welcome."  I had better not drink any more I'm way too tipsy. Grabbing another bottle of beer from the table I give it to Jonathon, "Here, you have mine as well. I think I've had enough for one night."  And if I'm going to get laid getting drunker is definitely not going to help.

"HEY," one of the guys talking to Cynthia grabs my hand, "that's my beer!"

Huh? What's your problem buddy?!?! "No, I brought it from my table."

The guy looks at Jonathon, "Give it back!"

Jonathon takes a swallow, "Nope, he brought it from his table and just gave it to me."

The guy pulls the bottle from Jonathon's hand, spraying beer everywhere. Jonathon jumps up and grabs the guy, "You got a problem??? Let's go outside!"

The guy pushes Jonathon back, "You're on buddy!"  They all walk out the door. This isn't my problem but I've got to help because it was my beer that started it.

I get up but a hand stops me. I turn and Denise is looking at me, "Don't. This is Jonathon's fight. He's been itching to start something ever since those guys came over."

Ah crap. I should go but Denise doesn't want me to. What's more important? I sit down and look at the table.

"Are you okay?"  Denise's voice is soft.

I look at her, "I'm sorry Denise but I have to do this. It was my beer that caused the problem and I should be part of the solution."

"But those guys are bigger than you. You could get hurt. Jonathon can take care of himself."

"I might but I have to do this. And I got a feeling it won't be a fair fight. I think it's going to be two on one."

She plants a kiss on my lips, "But if you stay you can have more of this."

Aaaaargh, decisions decisions! "Can I have more of this later?"

"I don't like fighting but we'll see."

"I guess I'm going to have to take my chances then."

"Okay, if you have to go. But be careful okay?"

"I will."

A crowd has gathered around Jonathon and the other two. Jonathon's on the ground and the other two on top of him. I had a feeling it would turn out this way so I push my way through and jump on top of both the guys. We all roll off Jonathon and stand up. "Ain't fair, two one one. Now you get to see one on two!"  And I leap again.

Down we go again, me landing on top of both of them. I'm mad, very mad, and feeling no pain. They're throwing punches but I'm not feeling anything. What I am feeling though are my fists hitting flesh and finally their punches stop. I stand up, "Get up! There's more where that came from!"  They stay down, blood pouring from broken lips. I turn to Jonathon who's looking a little worse for wear, "You okay?"

He's not bleeding, just a little bruised, "Yeah, thanks. I could have had them if they hadn't come at me both at one time."

"I thought they would, that's why I had to help."

"Where'd you learn to fight like that?"

"Three years of martial arts. Plus their backs were to me so I had an advantage."  The crowd breaks up and the other guys are nowhere to be seen. "I'm sorry about the beer."

Jonathon laughs, "It was their beer. You grabbed it by mistake."

Uh, what? "Then why did you say it was mine?"

"Because they were jerks."

"Oh, okay."

He puts his arm around my shoulder, "How about we go back inside and drink the rest of their beer?"

I laugh, "Excellent idea!"  Tonight is going to be great! I'm drunk, got in a fight, won, and will be getting laid. This is like drunken Christmas!

But once we get back to the table the women are gone. "Where'd they go?"

"They probably left because Denise doesn't like fighting."

Oh crap. I took a chance and it didn't work. "I thought Denise and I were getting along really well."

"You were. It's just that her ex boyfriend would fight with her a lot and she's still dealing with that. I finally had to go to their place and bring her home."

Bring her home? "Are you an ex husband or something?"

"No, Denise is my sister."

SISTER?? Wow, wrong timing. "Oh, that's why you were giving me the evil eye earlier. And sorry, I didn't know she was your sister."

"No worries, She's an adult and can make her own decisions."  He picks up a bottle, "And it seems she still hasn't gotten used to the fighting thing. I can't blame her."

No, I guess not. "So what do we do now?"

He hands me a beer, "Well, it seems we have a few drinks to finish off!"

Yes, yes we do. I take a swig and Jonathon and I get to know each other.

## YOU THINK I'M WHAT?

Jonathon and I having been hanging out a lot lately. Wouldn't say we've become best friends but we enjoy each other's company and have quite a few common interests. This week though he's out of town on business so I'm going solo.

His does green consulting and is the only employee, and likes it that way. He's only responsible for himself, along with more freedom and less stress. But from what he's told me some days there's way more stress than one person can handle. But he thrives on it.

What he does is different from other green companies. The others go into a business and show that business how to be more energy efficient, reduce waste and emissions, use more environmentally friendly products, and set up a recycling program.

Jonathon doesn't do that.

Instead, he finds an existing product and figures out how to reuse, eliminate, or change the material composition to something more sustainable. For example, a local potato chip manufacturing company packages chips in plastic bags and of course plastic bags are a problem. Jonathon found a company that makes incredibly cheap biodegradable plastic from seaweed (the bag is even edible!). But that company needed funding and Jonathon found investors. Then he went to the potato chip company and convinced them to use the seaweed bags and their sales have actually increased.

This simple idea could easily scale up but since this was untried Jonathon wanted to do this way on a smaller business as a test project. So far it's working out and Jonathon is hoping to introduce it with larger companies.

For the trip he's on now he's sourcing bamboo and hemp cloth for a local clothing manufacturer since bamboo and hemp are very fast growing and are easier to harvest. The difference this time is he's trying to find a source closer to home rather than from overseas and he thinks there's a startup with a unique way of producing the cloth from the raw materials. Plus, the bamboo and hemp are from another startup that has developed a more efficient way of growing. He really likes to fit pieces of a puzzle together.

This keeps him pretty busy and he's in town only a few days at a time. When we first met he was between projects.

As for Cynthia nothing happened between us. We hung out but the fact that I was willing to fight crossed me off the list. She isn't ready to have that kind of person in her life and I don't blame her especially after she told me some stories. After a week she went back home to her parents. When we met she was here visiting Jonathon and then off she went, to another city. We promised to keep in touch but that faded pretty quickly. Too bad she didn't live here because I think we could have made it work. She's such a nice girl and I definitely could use some stability in my life.

But I guess some things are never meant to be.

So anyway I'm going solo for a while and I'm going to try it sober. My other friends are pretty heavy drinkers and being around them isn't going to help if I want to change. I know one of my problems is that I can't seem to stop drinking once I start. I don't have cravings to drink but put a bottle in front of me and I'll drink until I'm broke. And unfortunately I can drink like a fish without passing out so a night of drinking can get very expensive. I've blacked out and threw up a lot but passing out is not a thing.

So now I'm going to try going into a bar with just five dollars and see where that gets me.

So why don't I just avoid bars altogether? Because I like the music, dancing, and being around people. It's the energy that I enjoy so much.

I'm in a nightclub I've never been to before once again. It'll be kind of a fresh start and I can see if I can actually do this sober. I'm not the most confident when I'm not drinking but I have to learn sometime.

It's early and there aren't very many people in here. I've found a table near the wall so I can watch people and maybe learn how others do things. Plus maybe see how I act when I'm drunk. My drink this time is a glass of water with a slice of lime. Lime has a ton of phytochemicals so it's healthier, not that I'm here for my health. Well, not my physical one anyway.

And so not to look like a loser sitting in a corner I've also got a notepad and pencil in front of me. Sure I could use my phone but sometimes writing things down helps keep my head straight. I've always been interested in poetry so I'm hoping to get my thoughts, concerns, hopes, and dreams down on paper. Just let it flow and see what comes out, without stopping to correct myself. Maybe I'll surprise myself, or maybe not. I'll just have to wait an see.

I pick up the pencil and start to write.

Words leave my fingertips and find their way to the paper. Everything that's bottled up inside is finding the way out and coming out on it's own. I'm not forcing it or even reading what I'm writing, I'm just going from one poem to the next.

Every so often I look up and the club has more people in it than before but I'm not interested. Once in a while out of the corner of my eye I can see a woman standing nearby glancing my way. But I'm so focused that I just smile and go back to writing. When I look up again that woman is usually gone but then another one might take her place. It's nice seeing them but I'm on a mission now, a mission I can't seem to stop.

Well okay, once in a while I do stop and read something I just wrote. This latest one has really got me thinking.

A Well Without A Bottom

There is a place deep in my soul

where there's a terrible place,

a bottomless black hole.

And into this well I stare

hoping to find hope

and a reason to care

but the hole is so black

so I cannot see

the things I lack

and there are days when I see

up into the sky

hoping to be

in that delicious blue

where everything is wonderful,

where everything is true

but then I look down again

not to see the light

but to see the pain

and I look into this well

more than I'd like,

it's my personal hell

and I want to escape

but my eyes seek the bottom

as if it's my fate

since this well has no bottom

and if it did

I'm sure it would be rotten

and it's a hole so very deep

and my soul

I don't want it to keep

but how do I find

that special place

to rest my mind

and step away from this well

so I can fly

and tell

the world I'm free

of fear and hurt

and always will be.

But right now I stare

deep in the well

and I'm scared

because my feet move

closer to that well,

it's beckoning slippery smooth

and it would be so easy to fall

deep and deeply down

and not care at all.

I could just reach for another drink

and never stop until

I tip over the brink

falling down to find the bottom

to where no one cares

and my existence simply forgotten.

Yes, it's seductive to be sure,

to finally give up

and release the hurt

but am I willing to fall,

to throw away everything,

to throw away all?

No, I don't think so yet

I've got to hold on a little more

and try to get

my eyes back up into the sky

where maybe one day,

just one day, I will learn to fly.

It's kind of dark and I think it means I'm not feeling too good about myself but I wasn't paying attention to the words while they came out. And yes, there are days I just want to give up but don't we all have them? Sometimes it gets worse while I'm drinking but in the morning everything is usually better, except for the hangovers. But those are just a part of everything too.

Not that this is the only poem I've written tonight. There are limericks, song ideas, silly stuff, and erotic poetry. There's no rhyme or reason for order or content when they came out, they just came out. Personally I think they're pretty good.

I look up again and two more woman are standing near me, one pretending to look at her phone. I might as well acknowledge them since I'm done with poetry for now. "Uh, hello."

"Hi."  They're both really curious. The woman with the phone turns towards me, "What are you doing?"

"Writing poetry."

"Poetry?"  The phone goes into a pocket.

"Yeah. I sometimes get inspired by crowds."

"Are you a poet?"

I laugh, "No, just passing the time."

She laughs as well, "The way you were writing I thought you were writing bible passages or something."

Uh, what? "Bible passages??"

"Yes. The way you were so focused it was like you had some sort of religious fervour in you."

Ahhhh. "Nope, just in my own world."

"I'm Lilith and this is my friend Tracy."

We shake hands, "Pleased to meet you."

Tracy pipes up, "I thought you were gay."

Gay? Why??? "Why would you think that?"  AND WHY DO PEOPLE KEEP THINKING I'M GAY???

"We've been watching you and there have been women standing beside you hoping to be noticed but you haven't paid any attention. So we thought you were gay."

Ahhhh, that would explain it. I guess I get a little too focused. "Nope, I like women."  I stand up and offer them my seat, "Here, you can sit if you want to."

Tracy sits down, "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

"So what kind of poetry have you written?"

"Just random stuff."

Lilith grabs another chair and sits down beside Tracy, "You mind if we read some of it?"

Uh, not really. Especially the well poem. "They're not very good so I don't show them to anyone. It's a personal thing."

Lilith laughs, "Fair enough. What else do you do?"

"Well," a grin moves across my face, "I like to confuse people and have holy experiences in bars. Other than that nothing much."

They laugh and Tracy picks up her drink, "Well, you do that very well. Now if you only could make money at it."

"Wouldn't do it for money. That would ruin the mystery. Besides it's a spiritual thing, so you've said. I couldn't mess up that."

"Definitely. So, do you like to dance or do you need to feel the spirit in you?"

"Yup, I dance, even without divine intervention. The only motivation I need is some pretty lady asking me."

"Good. Let's go."  Tracy grabs my hand and then we're on the dance floor.

Lilith, Tracy and I spend an hour dancing and talking. I'm having a lot of fun and it looks like they are too. Then Lilith looks at her watch, "Oh, we have to go. Have to get up early and we live out of town so it's a bit of a drive. It was nice to meet you."

Bummer. "It was nice to meet you too."

Lilith pulls me into a hug and whispers "If we had met earlier we could have spent time doing more interesting things."

Oh crap! Maybe I salvage this. "There's still time."

"Nope. But maybe we'll we meet again."

I hope so. "How about your number then?"

"Don't give it to strangers and we're still still strangers."

Double crap! "Yeah, I guess so. Well, have a good night."

"You too."

They walk out the door as I put the notebook in my pocket. If I hadn't tried to look like I wasn't alone I probably wouldn't have ended up alone. The world keeps playing these stupid jokes on me and no matter how hard I try I just can't win. Maybe the well poem is right. Maybe the bottom is my fate.

It's so hard to understand the rules to this game in life. Try and fail, or don't try and still fail. How is there any upside to this?

Ah, whatever. I just don't feel like being here anymore and it's time to go home.

I blew it again.

## I'M A PLAYA

Okay, last weekend was a bust. I thought I could look cool by sitting in a corner and scribbling in a notebook but obviously it didn't have the intended effect. Lilith and Tracy thought I was gay or some sort of fanatic documenting sins. Yeah, not so good.

But I did write some great poet--hey, I can be a poet! Girls LOVE poets! The best part is poets can show an effeminate side and not worry about sexual preferences. Yeah, this could work.

I'll have to look the part though and to do that I have to go online and see what a poet actually looks like. Yes, I know, poets come in all sizes and shapes but I want my outfit to scream poet as soon as someone sees me.

In the thrift store I find a full length trench coat, beret, and John Lennon sunglasses which definitely give me the bohemian poet style. If this doesn't scream poet I don't know what will. These clothes should help sell the experience and wearing this stuff I do feel like a poet so yeah, it should work.

Now I've got to write a few more poems and that should be good. No great poet has only one poem they're willing to share. Of course I wrote more than one last week but they're not something I'm willing to show anyone. Even the erotic one is quite vulgar and I've got to write some stuff in a gentler way.

After a few hours the poems are done and I'm ready to go out. Maybe Jonathon will be there so at least there'll be someone to talk to. He's back in town again, or he was when I talked to him a couple of days ago. He wasn't sure if he'd still be here this weekend since there was a lead he was working on. But if he's not around it shouldn't matter because poets are usually loners and it will just enhance my image.

I think I've got this figured out.

By the time I get to the bar it's pretty busy and I'm lucky to get in. Any later and I would have been waiting in line for quite a long time. I've been here often enough to know better but I had to practice my poet look before coming and it took a while to get it right. Anyway I'm in and going for a beer to loosen up a little. It should help the poetry flow a little better.

I should have shot as well to loosen up a little faster. It's only one and it won't hurt anything. Besides, I've promised to not drink so much and turn into a drunken idiot. I may be a fun drunken idiot but a drunken idiot is a drunken idiot nonetheless. Not sexy.

That shot went down pretty good. Maybe I'll have one more just for good measure. Won't hurt anything and I'm still in control.

Okay, it's been four shots but I'm still thinking clearly so these will be the only ones I'm having. I have to remember that poets with angst are cool and drunk poets are not. Grabbing my beer I take a look around.

Jonathon's here! I won't have to go it alone tonight and we can be wingmen. He's been a bit more lucky than I have but he's also really outgoing.

He's also talking to some girl. I can work out my poetry with her and then find my own girl. I'm not going to cut in on his action.

I wander over to the table, beer in hand, "Hey Jonathon!"

He turns from the girl and checks out my outfit, "What's up?"

"Thought I'd take a break from writing and have some fun."

A little smirk appears on his lips, "Good call, you write too much anyway."

Thanks for playing along. "What are you guys up to?"

He looks at the girl "--This is Cindy--" I turn and shake her hand "--and we're discussing our favourite books."

Ooooh, she's a little drunk and discussing literature. That's my chance to show her my stuff. "I know something about literature."

An eyebrow raises, "You do?"

Oh yeah, I've got this. "I'm a poet."  From the way her eyes widen I'm in.

"A poet huh? What have you published?"

Crap. How am I going to--got it! "I haven't yet, I'm still looking for a publisher. It's tough out there." Make her think I'm the starving artist type and go for the beatnik sympathy angle. That should work.

Her head tilts a little as she stares at me, figuring out if I'm a poser or real. The real must have won because she relaxes, "What do you write?"

YES!!! I'm da man! But stay cool, real cool. "Erotic poetry."  Bring up the sex thing.

A look of he's-just-trying-to-get-into-my-pants washes across her face and then something close to a challenge replaces it. She smiles, "Erotic poetry?"

"Yeah, not porn or anything. I believe that both men and women have the right to be free and express themselves how they choose, without fear of condemnation."  Jonathon snorts into his drink and gets up, walking away from the table. His back jiggles from trying to hold back laughter.

Cindy watches him and there's uncertainty in her eyes. She turns to me, "Why did he leave and what's so funny?"

Damn it Jonathon! "Uh, it's a private joke between us."

She isn't too comfortable with that explanation. "What joke? Are you making fun of me?"

"NO!" I've got to come up with something quick! What did I just say? Uh, oh yes. "It's the word condemnation. What we like to do is look up an uncommon word in the dictionary before we go out and see how many times we can use it in a sentence with people we don't know." I give her one of those 'I-know-it's-silly' grins, "It sounds stupid but we're kinda word nerds and it doesn't hurt anyone."  My left eyebrow rises, "or does it?"

From the way she's staring she's trying really hard to believe it. Then she glances down at the table, "No, I guess not."

GEEZ THAT WAS CLOSE!

As her eyes come up they lock onto mine, "But it's not nice to play games at someone else's expense."

Ack! She's picking up too much. "I'm sorry"--I glance down at the table--"but we think it's just a harmless game."  Taking a deep breath I look at her again, "But I won't do it anymore if it bothers you."

"That would be nice"--a sly smile works its way across her lips--"because it would just lead to more condemnation."

Whew, made it. "We wouldn't want that now would we?"

And finally she laughs, "Nope, too much condemnation in the world as it is." Picking up her drink she finishes off what little remains. "So, astound me with your poetry."

Sweet!!! I'm in! Gonna be easy from here. "The first poem," I reach into my pocket and pull out a sheet of paper because paper is for cool poets, "is called Why I'm A Man."

She laughs, "Because you didn't have much choice?"

"That's true," I laugh as well, "but no. I decide to write it to celebrate masculinity since women celebrate femininity."

"Oh, and why do you think men have to celebrate masculinity considering men have been doing this for centuries?"

Oh great, I'm reading poetry to a feminist... My eyebrows rise, "It's only fair, isn't it? Since we all should be equal then we all should have a say, right?"

She hesitates, then takes a drink from another glass, "I guess so."

HA! Got her with logic! "Okay,"--I take a drink as well--"get ready for this."

"Why I'm A Man"

"I'm a man because I'm not a woman,

I'm man because I like it.

I get to do man things and be strong,

I get to get my way.

I'm thankful I'm a man because it seems

too hard to be a woman.

I also don't have to give birth

to something the size of a watermelon.

I also don't have to yell at people at a

certain time of the month.

I'm a man and can get angry or upset

any time I want.

I'm a man and proud I'm stronger

than half the planet.

I'm a man and I like who I am

and not worry about being fat.

I'm a man and I like that life

is easier for me.

Why I'm a man and like it

is not that hard to see."

She's definitely not impressed. Maybe I shouldn't have started with that one. She takes another drink watching me, then puts her drink down, "Isn't that a little sexist?"

Think of something quick! It was supposed to show confidence but obviously doesn't! "Uh, no actually."

She leans back, arms over her chest, "No?"

"No." It's a--it's a--yesssss! "It's actually a poem emphasizing why women are looked down upon by the way some men view the world. It's actually social commentary on why men need to change the way they think."

I'm not sure if she's buying it but it's the best excuse I can come up with on the spur of the moment.

"But you said that it celebrates masculinity."

Oh crap, I did. Whoops. "Well yes it does if men become better people."  Hopefully that sounds reasonable.

It takes a second but then from her look she thinks so too although not 100%. "Okay, I can see it the way you explained it but if you have any more like that don't read them to me."

No, definitely not! "No I don't have any more like that. It was just an experiment. Like I said before I write erotic poetry."

A smile bends her lips, "You're not just trying to get into my pants are you?"

Well, uh, yeah. "No! I believe that people should be free to express their sexuality no matter the form."

A chuckle breaks from her lips, "I think you're trying to get into my pants so you had better impress me."

That's a go! "Be prepared to be amazed! It's called The Zipper Game"

"The zipper game? Isn't that a little too obvious?"

Well yeah, but that's the point. "Yeah, I guess so. But I did say I write erotic poetry, didn't I?"

A little smile crosses her face again, "Yes but you didn't say it would be so cheesy. I'm vegan and don't like cheese." Her smile disappears.

Ouch, this girl is harsh. I thought vegans were supposed to be nice! I'll skip The Zipper Game.

I pull the next one out of my pocket. At least I'm prepared. "Okay, this one is a little more romantic."

She leans back, "Go for it."

"What If We Just Bump Into Each Other"

"I don't mean if we run into each other on the street,

that's not how we should bump,

that's not how we should meet.

I don't mean if we jostle each other in a crowd

not even if it's happy,

not even if it's loud.

Clumped together in a group of people with you quite isn't my drift,

sure I'd like to touch you,

and definitely more than just a little bit.

What I mean is when we've done all that and we both agree,

that we should bump into each other naked,

because this is where we should be.

You bump against my body with yours on mine

I bump back against you,

because this is really fine.

Then we switch positions since this is fun,

so I can be behind you,

and you can be in the front.

I won't pull your hair too hard because I'm actually nice,

but you can call me daddy,

and I won't even think twice.

We should be bumping into each other right now,

because I can see your face,

and you desire to be plowed.

So we should just bump into each other and forget the talk,

because we all know,

it's time to walk the walk."

Hopefully she'll get the meaning. It took two days to write this thing and not make it too obvious. But you never know with some people. I look into her eyes, "What did you think of that one? Pretty good huh?"

She just stares at me, her face saying what her mouth doesn't. She's impressed even less and wants to be elsewhere. So she gets up.

Crap! It's not working! She's gonna leave any second now, I've got to do something. Maybe if I can make her think leaving is a mistake then she might stay. "Wait, I've got one more and you'll like this one."

Hesitation holds her for a few seconds as she searches my face. Then she sits back down. "This had better be good."  I've gotten one more chance.

The problem is I don't have have anything. And I had better come up with something quick.

There's a stupid grin on my face as my brain races, trying to put pieces together. If she could see what's going on inside she'd leave. And she's getting up again. "Wait! I'm just getting into the moment."

She doesn't sit back down but stands and waits.

Okay, just do this. Make her think about what she's missing. Figure out--yeah, that'll work.

I take a deep breath.

"What You're Missing"

"You can walk away but then

you'll regret not staying

because you'll miss out on

the best thing you've ever saw.

I'm the man that you desire

and you can't get any higher

than me because the rest are

losers and aren't very far

away from being a liars

who can't light your inner fires

and you know they're ones who're wrong

because they're just a bad song

and aren't the type of weak men

with whom you'll waste time spent.

So I suggest that you stay

right here with me then that way

we know we're obviously

the best around and can be

lovers and more than just friends

as we share times in our beds

and I will be always strong

you know together we belong.

You depart from this table

your life will not be stable

because it will make you sick

and very very stupid."

Nailed it! Pretty impressive for just winging it! My grin gets bigger.

For a few seconds she just stares and then her eyes harden.

Why does she look that way??? What did I do? I didn't... OH CRAP, I just called her stupid.

If looks could kill my organs would be dissolving in the most painful manner possible. Picking up my drink she splashes it across my face, "Is that STUPID enough for you?" Slamming down the glass she storms off through the crowd.

AAAAAA! WHY DID I CALL HER STUPID??? WHERE did that EVEN come from? Alcohol runs down my face and drips onto the part of the shirt she missed. Geez, she gave me one last chance and I had to screw it up. I'm such a friggin' idiot.

Jonathon comes back and sits down. He takes a good look at me and takes a drink. Then he sets his glass down. "What did you do?"

I look down at my shirt and grab a dry napkin off of the next table. The people there look at me like I'm a jerk but I don't care and I turn back to Jonathon, wiping my face, "I called her stupid."

For a second surprise registers on his face and then he bursts into raucous laughter. The people around us turn to look and smiles inch across their lips. They know what happened and are happy to laugh at me as well.

"How did you do THAT?"

"Well, I didn't actually call her stupid."  Not that I meant to anyways. I take a drink, "She was going to leave and I made up a poem to try and get her to stay. Somehow the word stupid came out."

He had just picked up his beer and put it to his lips when it sprays out as he bursts into laughter again, "I guess that would make her the not-stupid one."

Thanks for pointing out the obvious Jonathon. But at least I'm not the only one who's wet. "Yeah yeah, whatever, I get that. Let's just drop it okay? Besides, it's time for shots."

He looks down at his beer soaked shirt and then at the almost empty glass, "Yup, I guess you're right."

Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhh. Whoever is bouncing on my head has to stop it.

My mouth tastes like I licked a garbage can. I hope I didn't do that again.

What did I do last night???

I remember joking with Jonathon, grabbing more beer, doing a lot more shots, and then nothing.

But it definitely was something, my head is pounding out a reminder. But what did I do?

Something crackles in my hand as I shift in bed. Prying open my eyes (and believe me, they hurt) I take a good look at myself. I'm in bed, naked, except for underwear around my ankles and shoes on my feet.

Uh, okay...

Something crackles in my hand again.

Painfully bringing my hand to my face there's a piece of paper in my fist.

What's this?

Bringing my other hand to my face reveals a pair of panties.

WHAT DID I DO???

They're very nice panties and definitely not mine. I did dress up as a woman one Halloween but never went so far as wearing the underwear.

I bring them to my nose.

Smell new. But there's a hint of perfume on them.

This is just too weird. I wish my head would stop trying to explode so I could figure this out.

I look at the paper again. Parts of it are in my handwriting and parts of it are in someone else's. Probably female since I don't think Jonathon dots his i's with little hearts.

It takes another moment to focus and I begin to read.

Little Drops

Little drops of sweat

dance across my face

tumbling down my nose

stopping at that place

where my lips curl

to form a smile as I

gaze deep into your eyes

with the sounds of passion

and the hint of your sighs

tickle my thundering ears

making me move

and move more

so I hear the whispers

and the roars

we both share as we

dance skin on skin.

Little drops fall from high

with passionate joy

to plummet and fly

onto your beckoning lips

and then we join

in a blistering kiss

melting us both from within

and I can't tell

where you leave off and I begin,

but I do know that I want to stay

this way forever

because this is the place

and the time hidden away

that I find your joyous grace.

Little drops of sweat

become the force that blends

us together in a way

that others cannot rend

as the little drops of sweat

fall from my heart to yours,

joining us as one

in a world that's only ours,

little drops of sweat

of only sweetness I can say,

those precious little drops of sweat

please never go away.

And on the bottom is "I had fun. Call me, Ashley"

Ashley? I don't remember an Ashley. And what kind of fun?

Turning the paper over shows nothing but a smiley face. Definitely not a phone number. But there's smudged ink on the back of my hand and some of those smudges look like numbers.

Was she here??? The bed beside me is rumpled but that doesn't mean anything.

I sniff the pillow and it has a hint of the same perfume. But that could have come from the panties.

Did I buy panties on the way home last night? Did Ashley give them to me? How am I supposed to call her?

This isn't getting any better, especially with the soccer team in my head going into overtime.

I'm going back to sleep. Hopefully I can figure this out after my head is normal again.

I'm never drinking again.

## SOMETIMES IT HAS TO END

Never did find out who Ashley is. Jonathon doesn't remember either. He said that it was an hour before last call and wanted to go but I insisted on staying. He didn't see anyone with me so he has no idea who this woman is.

Well, at least someone was interested so it can't be too hard to find someone again. And maybe I can find another poet. I'm pretty sure Ashley came up with that poem and I just wrote parts of it down. I guess we were poet collaborators.

But it's a new day, a new weekend and time to party! I wasn't serious about not drinking, it was the hangover talking. As long as I don't drink too much it's all good and if I get stupid the hangover is the real problem. I'm also getting better about the money I spend. Now I go out with just the cash I want to spend and leave the bank and credit cards at home. Sometimes I borrow a little money but pay it back as quickly as possible. I don't do that too often.

Even with everything that's happened over the last year, along with a lot of bad luck, this time things are going to change. I've been catching tips from pickup artist videos and getting help on forums so now I know what to say and do. It's getting the foot in the door that I'm still having trouble with but now I believe I'm confident, sexy, and desirable so there is no way I'm going to fail. This time I'm going take notice of the opportunities and act on them. It's been a year since the last time I've dated or even been with a woman, which was the online profile disaster, but tonight that will all change.

One of my downfalls is I can drink too much at times but I've been working on that as well. I'm keeping the drinking down even at parties so I feel pretty good that I'm not going to screw up again.

I'm a little shy when sober but I'm definitely not at all attractive when I'm hammered. My face gets all red, I stagger around a lot, and smell overwhelming of booze. I really wouldn't want to date me either. First impressions are pretty important and screwing them up means working extra hard to fix them later. So this time I'm going to drink enough to get a little buzz going to be more social. I've got it all planned out, been working hard on doing it right, and I'm feeling good about all I've accomplished so there is no way, absolutely no way tonight will be a failure. No way. I've even bought new clothes just for this occasion. I'm a walking love machine!

This is a bar I don't come to that much but I've been here enough that some of the staff know me and we're on friendly terms. Time to get my loosening up drink.

"Hey Stacey!"  She's a smokin' hot bartender who likes to dance behind the bar. And the clothing she wears...

"Hey! What's up?"

"Celebrating!"

"Celebrating what?"

"New clothes."

She chuckles, "Any reason to celebrate is a good reason. What can I get you?"

"Let's start with a Creamsicle. And how about I buy you a shot?"

"Sure. What kind?"

"You choose."

The grin that pops up looks a little evil, "Okay, but I've come up with a new drink. Doesn't taste that good but is does the job."

That doesn't sound good... "What's it called?"

"Gasoline Alley."

"Gasoline Alley?"

"Yup. Just as bad as drinking gasoline."

"Uh, what's in it?"

"Tequila, vodka, Ouzo."

That doesn't sound too bad. "But doesn't the Ouzo give it a licorice taste?"

"Not really. The tequila has bad sex with it and turns it upside down."

"That's quite the description."

"That's the only way I can describe it. You want one?"

Why not? Can't be that bad. "Sure."

She makes the Creamsicle and the two shots. As we lift the shots to our lips she says "Cheers" and slams it back. I do the same.

And almost throw up. "UGH, that's awful!"

She laughs, "Told you!"

"Why did you create something so bad?"

"Because when you're drunk and want to get drunker this'll do it."

Yes, yes it will. I'm feeling warm from it already. "Well Stacey, you have a talent. A weird one, but a talent nonetheless."

She laughs again, "I've got to do something in my spare time."

"So what do I owe you?"

She tells me.

Yikes! That's almost all of the money I've got! But I pay her. "Can you set up a tab?"

"Sure."

Yes, I know. But my place isn't too far from here and if I leave ID they'll let me go home and get more money. I've done it before. But I'm really going to try and use only the money I have left. With Creamsicle in hand I wander around the bar, finally coming to an empty table in a corner. I don't need to be obviously alone and this is a good place to plan strategy.

The Creamsicle goes down pretty easily and I get a jug of beer from Stacey. This should do me for the night since it took the last of my money.

I'm back at the table and it's time to plan strategy.

Okay, so first what I'm going to do is-- A Gasoline Alley appears on the table in front of me. I look at the waitress, "What's this?"

"From Stacey, since you bought her a shot she bought you one."

"Oh, thanks."  The waitress leaves and I give my head a slight shake before downing the shot.

That thing sure warms the belly. I have to be careful and not drink too many of these.

It's also turning my head a little fuzzy too. Stacey is right, that shot does make a person drunker. I should go thank her.

"Hey Stacey! Thanks for the shot! You up for another one?"

"Sure!"

We slam them back. "Can you put it on the tab?"

"No problem."

I turn around and see my half full jug of beer. It's a very sad looking thing so I turn back to her, "And another jug of beer. Plus two more shots."

"Coming up."

The shots go down again and then the full jug and I make it back to the table, just a little bit unsteady. But no beer is harmed or spilled on the trip back.

I'm going to have to drink the half jug before the second one gets warm. It goes down pretty smooth.

Now I've got a buzz going I can start talking to people. I lift a glass of beer to my lips. Then things will go great.

The jug is almost empty. Time to get another one.

I'm pretty drunk but I still should be good.

Somehow there are three empty shot glasses on the table.

Things are fuzzy but I'm still okay.

Another full jug sits on the table.

Geez, I think I've had too much. And why did I buy those people a round of shots?

Six empty shot glasses surround the empty jug. Guess it's time to start talking.

Women keep turning me down. I'm a loser.

For some reason there's a rye and coke on the table and I hate rye and coke.

Those Gasoline things are brutal. Good thing I didn't puke all over myself.

There's a little bit of vomit on my shoes though. But someone did share some coke in the bathroom.

I'm a loser. My life sucks. I hate myself. Everyone hates me.

Why is there another jug of beer on the table?

I've got to leave this city, I do nothing but fail here. Just find another place and start over. Keeping moving, never stop.

I've got to go. I'll pay the tab tomorrow.

It's hard walking home and I need to rest, staggering into an alley and dropping down behind a garbage bin. I can't let anyone see me like this. I still want to have some dignity left.

My hand bumps a broken bottle as I shift farther behind the bin. Damn garbage, I could have been cut--I could have been cut. So? What difference does it make? My life isn't worth anything. I'm a failure and no one wants me. I can't control my drinking and can't wait to get high again. This is not living, it's hell.

It is a hell. Nothing like how I wanted my life to be. I was going to happy, successful, living a life everyone wanted. I was going to make it. And now I'm behind a dumpster, a complete wreck, finally not lying to myself.

How did I come to this? How did everything go wrong? Why does the universe hate me so much that it has to keep kicking me in the head? How am I supposed to fight that?

My cheeks feel so wet and I can barely see.

Why did I break up with Vanessa? Why did I have to get mad and tell her I'm done with her and can do better? I didn't mean it, I was just so mad. But I can't take it back, it can never be taken back. The words left my mouth and I couldn't stuff them back in.

The look on her face was heartbreaking.

I'll never forget her face for as long as I live.

I DIDN'T MEAN IT!!!

Sobs wrack my body.

I apologized a million times but the damage was done.

If I hadn't been so immature and stupid we could have had a life together.

Why did I want something better when I already had better? Why was I so stupid?

My hand knocks against the broken bottle again.

I've lost control of my life, just like this stupid bottle. I'm so broken and don't know how I can fix me.

"Can anyone fix me?"  Those words slip from my lips in a whisper so low even I can barely hear them. More sobs wrack my body.

Nothing I've done has ever turned out right. I've got no friends, no somebody to share life with, no money, a crappy job, and a future I'm terrified of.

A future that I don't even want to look into.

Why do I fail at everything? I try so hard just to have a normal life and it keeps falling away from me. Why am I cursed with such bad luck? What did I ever do to deserve this?

Nobody deserves this...

My hand hits the bottle again and I pick it up.

I should just end it now, nobody's going to miss me.

The bottle drops from my fingers, breaking and exposing more jagged edges. I stare at those edges as tears fall onto the glass. "I'm scared."  Really, really scared.

Not because the bottle can end my problems but BECAUSE the bottle can end my problems. This isn't the first time I've thought about not being around anymore but this is the first time I'm not saying no.

I don't have a future and I don't have a present. I'm living in a limbo compromised of hell and more hell. I can't get out and I don't know how to even try.

Because I'm just going to fail again. My life is just going to keep unravelling as I fail time and time again. I can't hold down a job, I can't stay sober, and I can't be the person I want to be.

And I'm going to be alone forever.

I look around.

This is where I belong, a piece of trash, in an alley, behind a dumpster. I finally have found my home.

Yeah, I'm finally home. I look down at the bottle again.

If only someone would want me, someone to stand with me, I could go on. But there isn't. No one likes me in real life and no one liked me in that stupid online dating.

I failed miserably at it. But in this moment I realize that I was rude and everyone is a person who should be respected. I thought being someone I wasn't was going to help me. That thinking is so wrong. Nothing is going to help me. And to all of the women I looked down on I'm so sorry. You're better than I will ever be. But it's not going to matter anymore.

Nothing is going to matter anymore.

I wipe away the tears but they won't stop coming.

I can't take this anymore, I just can't.

But at least there is one thing I can control.

My hand closes around the bottle.
