Smalltalk- Book 2
Conversations
There I am, minding my own business- walking down a fairly crowded mall when I happen to see the girl of our collective dreams sitting at Starbucks. And sitting with her is this guy- you know this guy, you have seen him before- the kind of guy you look at and think- What is SHE doing with HIM. You never see good looking guys with ugly women- No- its always the ugly guy with the good looking woman- and I want to be that guy, I want people to look at me and say what’s SHE doing with him- I mean- I am just as ugly as he is- I am devoid of the same charm that he is- What is it that he doesn’t have that I do.
The more I look at them the more I am intrigued- I want to know how this phenomena works- So I find myself a table suitably close for eavesdropping. I am not following them, I am just sitting next to them in a coffee shop- even though I don’t drink coffee- its not stalking if it doesn’t involve following.
I have a better view at the girl from where I am sitting and what a view it is. She had the perfect body, Something Davinci would have sculpted and then feel obliged to feel up. (Forget Dan Browns “he was gay” stuff).
She sat there, with one leg on the other- and she flinched a little and every man in a 7 meter radius flinched a little- We have sense- an intuition about females- and we all knew that she was going to cross her legs with such sensuality that was beyond any basic instinct. It was art in the form of instinct.
If a bitch raises her leg to take a piss, every dog thinks it’s his lucky day.
I moved my face a little to get a better look but unfortunately for me- a man decided to block my peripheral vision with his preteen kids and preschool kids- one after the other- 7 of them- in a row, Everyone of them sucking happiness from lives. What I think of parents like this is simple, those who cant do teach, those who can’t teach have kids, those who don’t learn have more kids.
By the time they all walked past my eyes- it was too late, she had crossed her legs and I had missed it. But I would wait there would be other opportunities. So I decided to try and understand this guy a little more.
They were having a conversation. Well, the girl was talking- the guy was pretending to listen. That’s the best conversation you can have- everyone’s happy. There will of course be some awkward silences but that’s manageable if it means you get to have sex later. And to tell you the truth, I much prefer and awkward silence during conversation then during sex.
Sex was all that was going through this guy’s mind- What did she see in him- It was a clear case of beauty and the boner.
And every guy in that room seemed to have one at the sight of her- Maybe- Starbucks was selling Viagra- I wouldn’t be surprised.
But I would also like to take this opportunity to tell you I am completely against Viagra. I for one am looking forward to impotency. For once I don’t have to be a slave to my penis and be able to take decisions on my own. I was looking forward to being 60 and impotent and for once able to carry a civilized conversation with a woman, even though she had boobs- BUT NO- medical science had to come along and shatter my dreams of impotency.
Give me liberty or give me Impotency- apparently liberty was better for business.
I was looking at this woman and kept wondering to myself, why can’t I have such a woman. I was willing to compromise. It didn’t have to be a woman exactly like her- I could settle for a woman with just breasts like her- that’s all I ask- just breast like her- hell one breast like her- that’s right- I was desperate. Why is it that I always end up dating women who wear push up bras trying to make full meals out leftovers?
Women don’t know how lucky they are- they get al kinds of- material for their boobs- hell they have entire shops that sell just sell items for their breasticular needs. What do we men get- nothing. I am not asking for a bra, maybe just a push down boner underpants.
So I look up and I see the guy my girl was with- He was staring at the waitress’s ass. I am going to name this guy Generic douche X. Now I will confess That I too was looking at the ass. Nothing wrong with looking at an ass, its healthy even. That’s what men do, we aspire for asses.
But this guy was an expert, you could say by his technique- An Archeologist of asses. First class degree from hardwood university- He only creamed his pants at the crème dele crème of ass. And I could read his mind. Screw reading his mind, his mind was an audio tape of moans and grunts. If you still don’t understand- I have for you one word- Threesome.
Sex feels great with two people involved, its twice as great with three- its simple math. I of course happen to disagree. Don’t get me wrong here, if I had a choice between threesome or lonesome, I would go for threesome any day but in most other cases- I would prefer a twosome- There is just too much pressure- Three people aren’t meant to sleep together- there are too many spare parts, the mechanics of the thing doesn’t work. One limb here- another limb there and before you know it- you are limp. So screw simple math.
Out of my league girl X was still talking. And she was talking about something smart too- but I wasn’t paying much attention. I mean- I wont lie, I am a bit of a douche myself. I am shallow but I am the good kind of shallow- I can fake depth. I was shallow below the surface- on top I was a sea of sensitive. It’s the greatest show on earth. Hi my name is Hysum, I am the waterworld of sensitivity. Complete with the trained dolphins who jump on cue.
And this was my cue- Generic douche X was being all douche like and I had to jump in- save the day… get the girl. Be sensitive- show her my dolphins on a quest to show her my hammer head shark. So I walked up to her- Douche boy was still staring at waitress girl. I went up to their table- the guy was still eyeballing waitress and I opened my mouth looking for a cool little ice breaker.
Instead she spoke to me- She sure knew how to break the ice
“Hey- I saw you sitting there and I was wondering- would you like to join us for a threesome?”
What’s a generic guy X like me supposed to do?
The end