Us, meaning him and the redhead.
He gives me an apologetic smile with hope sprinkled on it.
Yeah.
He’d love me to be his wingman.
Maybe he’d get laid for once.
But if I did that, I’d make him watch me railing those women so he could learn how it’s done.
The problem is, I’m not in the mood for fucking tonight, yet I understand the math.
The redhead has a friend. Somehow, the friend got a tip and showed up here uninvited.
I happen to be here, alone, nursing my drink.
Again, this place is known for getting laid if you were a man and scoring a loaded jerk if you were a lady.
I didn’t make the rules.
I just observe them.
I’m one of the loaded jerks, but luckily, no one knows that. Unlike the dick on my side, I don’t drive an expensive car.
For each thing, there is the right time. Right now, I don’t need the aggravation.
And other than that? I rarely wear suits these days and seldom pick up women at the bar.
I’ve had my share. It all ends the same.
Hair extensions in a cheap hotel room. Lipstick on my dick. Pale and gaunt looks in the morning. Empty eyes. The crushing disappointment on both sides.
We both look like dead ends.
Sex can do a lot in life, but for sure, it can’t erase your memory or give you a new direction.
I’ve been sailing aimlessly for a while.
“Maybe he’d like to join us,” the blonde insists, obviously taking a liking to me.
What you don’t need usually comes easy. I study her face under the curious eyes of the odd couple at my side.
I give her a taste of what lies behind my spellbinding eyes––their words about my eyes, not mine. And I see the recoil in horror in her body.
The other two don't notice it, but I do.
Her upper lip trembles and her eyes lose their sparkle. All that cheerfulness has gone stale. A quick once over gives me everything I need to know.
She’s older than the redhead, younger than me, for sure. Somewhere in her early thirties.
She could be a hard-working woman by day.
A teacher, a lawyer, or a doctor.
She has that self-assuredness about her, the kind that women in control can never bury deep enough, not even when they go out to have some fun.
Maybe she was on one of the dating sites the creepy guys call home, tried her luck with a bunch of them, and none of them gave her what she wanted.
