Having Fun With The Dark Side
Dating knickerless women.
Did you ever ask yourself why arthritis attacks the joints you care most about? I ask this sitting here with a double whisky chaser contemplating my future — having today been fired from my part-time job for a trivial matter — stationary theft and tea money fraud — and considering starting up a business on my own. I’m old, needing spectacles to read, losing my hair, and cultivating ways to farther extend my belly. My hobbies are playing air guitar — Money For Nothing — and Butt-Kissing — which I’ve perfected since age twelve. I’m a man of little dreams, small victories, and easily reachable goals. I know nothing about iPods, hard-drives, gigabytes, poppers, or Angelina Jolie.
I could start a launderette, for instance. I’d call it — In A Spin. And advertise it as: ‘The Best Place in Town to Drop Your Pants!’ It suddenly occurs to me what I’m really doing is worshipping the Goddess of Dirty Underwear.
I smile about three times a week, smoke Marlboro Lights, not bad considering it took twenty-three years to get my wife off my back. I had help. A speeding ambulance with flashing lights drove right over her. When the police car came, I was standing there looking up at the heavens. The cop thought I’d been heartbreakingly cheated of my wife’s company. I was really thinking: This is just brilliant, thank you Lord.
I don’t miss boy bands, baggy blue jeans, ice white trainers, and branded T-shirts, nor have I been sober in years. Maybe a few minutes at a time, mostly waiting in line to buy more liquor. It’s hard to know what to do with my time. I could write a book, become an author. You don’t have to be a genius to write a book. All the best authors frequent pubs. Maybe write a book on celebrated alcoholics. Or the effects of beer induced migraines. There’s no end to the opportunities. Let’s have another drink. Wait, what’s this? Senior Match..com? Think I’ll join. Oops! Wait, here’s one: Knickerless woman wants to know a poet. Oh, yes, that’s me. I’m poetic, I can recite Humpty Dumpty. I know all that stuff.
Geez, this’ll be easy, where’s my pen…hey, who took my drink!
