“IMPOSSIBLE” - MANAFEST
“HELLO, I LOVE YOU” - THE DOORS
I met a girl today.
Okay, I actually met like thirty. I’m lucky that I have tattoos covering all the possible free space on my arm, really; it kept some cougars from trying to write their phone numbers down on available skin. It’s a little weird, sometimes. I get it. I’m pretty hot shit but - really? Eesh.
So I’m at work, right? No big deal, doing my usual thing. I was setting up for an appointment where I thought I’d be giving some kind of counsel on a future-tattoo, because I mean; I hadn’t talked to this girl previously. I just had her last name down in my book. but I’m getting the gun ready in the event that she decides; cool, tattoo now. Didn’t happen that way but, that’s not the point. There I was, minding my own Kool-Aid, when - boom.
In walks this total bombshell. When I say bombshell, I mean the fucking place should’a been fallin’ apart, shaking, and crumbling. This girl’s body. Fuck. I haven’t seen asses like that since I was in high school. She’s gotta be a gymnast. Or a cheerleader. ..Or a dancer. ..Or fuck, something - that ass, man.
… But uh, yeah.
On top of being gorgeous, she’s not stupid. She’s going to college for… art? Photography, maybe. I mean, she came in to ask about taking pictures. She probably goes to school with me, actually. I forgot to ask. I was just supposed to be a tattoo guy - not the guy flirting with her. But damn, would it be nice. Alas - I can’t. I mean, I even cracked down on my coworker for trying to hook up with her cute friend. It’s like a code, man. You don’t boink the clients. If you don’t call the next morning, they’ll avoid the shop and they won’t refer friends because they don’t wanna deal with you. It’s just courtesy to the other artists, dude.
Ah, but she’s a bit young. It’s her skin - it’s very… virgin. I’m not saying I’d know if she’s gotten any good at the Horizontal Tango, but her skin is innocent. Not a lot of scars, pretty, clear… Soft.
God damn it. No. Stop. … Stop. S-stop it now. … Down, boy.
Fucking damn it- I said down! … There ya go.
It’s been too long. Way too long. If I was willing to dip into the past, I’d have a girl on call but… I don’t really know anyone these days. I’ve been gone for six years. There’s a handful of people who will talk to me, who I want to talk to, and who aren’t dead from an over dose or in jail. Not to mention pregnant, married, or just not worth the time.
Man, I was friends with a lot of waste.
John was the first person I contacted. He’s the reason I started to clean up my act in the military. Kept me sane with letters and care packages from his wife. His little girl, Laney. She was a sweetheart. She drew me this silly picture of me in BDUs (even though I was normally in ACUs) with a gun shooting what I could only assume were Arabs. I wasn’t sure whether to applaud that she knew how to make poorly drawn people distinguishable from each other that well or scold the mild theme of politically incorrect assumption that Arabs need shot. … I chose to send her some popular candy I found in Siberia and call it a day. I mean, she was seven.
Not her fault that everyone’s gun happy for Islamics.
They aren’t a bad people but - I’ll touch on that some other time.
I actually have that picture up in my room. It’s hung over my desk so I can smile at it every day. Sure, it’s crudely drawn, the BDUs are inaccurate, and it’s a little racist but it was a seven year old’s attempt to make me smile. That’s fucking good enough for me.
She also made me a bracelet. She made it way too small. And it has little heart charms and girly colors because as a seven year old, she didn’t consider that a twenty-something male would be wearing it; but I have it on a hook in my studio at work. That way, she knows I kept it for the thought, not the style.
I keep thinking back on Ana, dude. She just seemed different. There’s a place and time for everything, though. And at work, it’s not the place for me to make moves. And she’s younger than me - probably into guys closer to her age. She probably likes clean cut guys with no tattoos; maybe the kind that goes to church and opens doors for ladies.
… I do that sometimes. Not the church thing - I’d burst into flames. But the door thing. I do that. Mostly for older women and kids but. I do that. …
Ah well. My pork is done. Time to be a bad Jew and watch Big Bang Theory.
Until next time, journal.
“RIOT GIRL” - GOOD CHARLOTTE
“HANG IT UP” - THE TING TINGS