BAR SCENE

My head’s been a little fuzzy lately, for reasons I’d rather not detail (though they are not illegal), so I thought I’d bring you a really obscure material.

I’ll admit right off, I’m not a bar guy. Never have been, probably never will. I just don’t have the self-confidence it requires to get shot down that much and yet keep trying.

As a wannabe writer, though, I’m supposed to observe humanity, so I recently went to a bar, staked out a table next to some attractive women, and took a good look at the circus parade of human male freakdom that hit on them.

My favourite person of the night was Mr. Freudian-subtext. He stroked his oversized beer bottle like a penis, shaking it to make white foam come out. Cute. And what latencies were we observing when he then put it in his mouth and drank from it? Hmmm? There was also Mr. I’m-too-sexy-for-my-shirt, so named because he had it open so far. Yes, those mediocre pecs and five chest hairs were extremely impressive.

But overall each guy, as he passed, was pretty much like a car salesman, trying the sales pitch and moving on, braving rejection on a scale I could never face.

Then the three good looking women opposite me started talking about sex putting emphasis on how long it’s been since they had it. These working class girls were talking in terms of days and weeks. Me, I’m talking in terms of terms… presidential terms.

Then one pipes up and says “I really need to have sex.” The other two chime in with “Me too. I need to have sex too.”

It was finally too much to bear. I motioned them close. “Ladies, you may not know this,” I said. “It’s really a closely guarded secret, but… now keep this under your hats… I have a penis. Not only that, it’s but a mere part of a complete and fully functioning set of male genitalia. But wait… male genitalia? My goodness, that must have been mean ! But what was I to do?..Someone tell me please

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