What if This is as Good as it Gets?

Friday night I made out with a she-male. A big, hulking, old, leather-y, busted man-woman.

Ya like that? usually I tell the story from beginning to end, and build up to the big finale. I think this time I just wanted to grab the reader. Much like I was grabbed and molested on Friday night.

I had dinner with my friend Brom, and after dinner, he called our mutual friend, Lara, and arranged to hang with her. She was apparently bringing her friend Denise. Because I'm such a suave and caring person, I quoted Tom Cruise from Magnolia: "Denise. Denise the Piece." Well, Denise, or perhaps more appropriately Dennis, was not a piece of anything, except manliness. She talked liked Patty and Selma from the Simpsons if they were from Southie, and towered over me. She had no breasts to speak of, and was apparently 45 years-old, but I would have guessed 55. Needless to say, I was instantly repulsed by Dennis.

Well, we ended up at Tommy Doyle's, and all four of us sat at the bar, which confused me because there were tables. So, four across the bar and I somehow was situated next to this thing. And we're having a few drinks and I'm talking and figuring that any minute now we would be moving to a table. Well, that never happened, and I was hearing all kinds of ridiculous stories about this woman's time in Hollywood (she was an aspiring MODEL!), and how Jackie Mason was hitting on her. So, I decided to drink some more, to get through it, her with her Coors Light and me with my Harpoon. I even ordered a shot, which I never do. I think shots are usually pretty lame actually, and this one was no exception. Jaeger and Peach Schnapps or something. Whatever. It tasted like grape juice, and it certainly did not improve my situation. In fact, I think Dennis was getting more drunk and frisky by the minute, even telling me at one point, "Order me anotha be-ah!" Que? Order your own fucking beer.

Finally, she asked for the bill, and since it was under her card, I actually tried to screw her on the bill a little ("Here's $14. That cover me?"), which was ungentlemanly, I know, but I thought maybe it would sufficiently turn her off. I ended up throwing her a twenty and we left. Outside, she grabbed me and said, "Is that a Hahhhvid frat house over there? Let's go see if they'll give us some of their be-ahs."

"Well, it's empty," I responded. It's summer."

"Let's go check!"

Bad. Very bad. She dragged me over to the dark corner of the street, and laid one on me. With tongue. Mind you, I have had a few drinks, but not so many that I am not conscious of what was happening. Clear thoughts raced through my head, like, "What am I doing? This isn't good." Yet I did not push her away. Somehow, I guess I would have thought that rude.

Thankfully, it was brief, and we rejoined our friends, but not before she gave me her "cahhd," and asked me to give her call sometime. Which I will never do. She also told me that I am "a good kissah." I wanted to say, "Compared to what?"

This was a low point. Probably worse than the Audra Blue Ball Incident. I have a list of people I've made out with, and up to this point, it was all good. This taints the whole thing. And yet, I couldn't help but think, after it was over and I had rinsed with powerful mouthwash for three hours, that maybe this is all I'm capable of. Maybe I can't do any better than Denise the Piece. Like Jack Nicholson, I was left to wonder, "What if this is as good as it gets?"

I refuse to believe that, deep down. I've had better women, more fun, and I do truly feel that better days are ahead. However, until that someone better comes along to make out with, I will still have that lingering thought in the back of my head: What if this is as good as it gets?

Some Random Thoughts of the Day.

* First off, I'm back to a Bostonsportz gig. Although no Heroes to rant about, I rambled incoherently about Misty May and Kerri Walsh winning their second straight Gold medal here. Those chicks were sumpthin' else.

* I like to check out where the random people who find this blog are from, and feedburner is nice enough to provide this information. Upon checking it today, I saw one reader was from a sleepy little town called Freehold, NJ, which just happens to be the hometown of one Bruce Springsteen. Maybe it was him. You don't think...? Maybe he wanted to read my take on the show in Foxboro. Or he just wanted to know what was up with those empty eBay auctions.

This is really random, but a few years ago, I sold a book or something on half.com to a guy from Freehold, and I had to ask about Springsteen. I sent him a brief e-mail, apologizing for my silliness, and asking if Bruce still comes around (or even if he knew him. It's a small town.) Apparently, Bruce still keeps a house there, but only comes around to visit old friends once in awhile. He moved to L.A. pretty young, but he's still identified as a Jersey guy. I guess they need something to cheer for besides Bon Jovi and Eli Manning.

* In perhaps the most random discovery of the day, Star Wars LEGOs are apparently worth some money, probably due to the video game, but I'll take it. Years ago, when my office was gray and dismal, I decided to buy things to spruce it up a little. Being me, I bought toys, mostly Star Wars LEGO sets, because not only were they neat and different to have around the office, I could pass some downtime at work by putting them together. Believe me, there was nothing better I could be doing. Those were the days when my job was a lot less stressful.

Anyway, my office was eventually remodeled, and so I put the LEGOs in storage for awhile, not needing so much decoration, and wanting to look slightly professional. I recently unearthed them while cleaning some stuff, and reassembled some of them. A few still adorn the office, but again, being me, I did a quick ebay search for Star Wars LEGOs. Zounds! Some of these things are selling! Apparently, some of the tiny little figures are hard-to-find, and some of the sets have been discontinued, so they are rare and that means money in my pocket. I mean, sure it's sad, but so is poverty. I'll say this; you'll have to pull my Jedi Starfighter out of my cold dead hand.

I guess that be all. I'm going out for the first time in awhile tonight, so I must prepare (which basically means having money and eating enough so i have food in my stomach and don't get too pasted.)

Carry on.

It Ain't Me, Babe

My friend Brom and I were talking the other night, and he brought up the fact that of all the people we knew and hung out with in high school, only one has managed to procreate (that we know of. There is always the chance of a few bastards.) That got me thinking about all of my current friends, as well, and how very few of them have children. There's my friend Jay (who is the one that Brom and I were talking about) and my brother, and... I can't really think of any others (apologies to anyone who considers myself a friend who may have children. I just went through my cellphone and didn't find you, so...).

I'll ask the same question I asked Brom: Are we weird? Immature? Smart?

Obviously, I have made my distaste for children into a lecture on many occasions for anyone who would listen, but surely that's not the reason. I don't think I'm that persuasive. I don't think it's because I have a lot of lesbian friends, either, because they could have kids if they wanted. Anyone can have them these days: artificial insemination, surrogates, adoption,.. Hell it seems hard not to have them these days. Anyone who has heterosexual sex at the proper time of the month could end up with one. No intelligence or sobriety test required.

I think age plays a factor. Years ago, an unmarried woman of 30 was definitely looked down on as an old maid. But 40 is the new 30, I guess, and more and more people are putting it off to have a career. It all makes sense, of course, but I wonder if we're getting a little close to that movie Idiocracy, where Luke Wilson was cryogenically frozen and woke up a hundred years later to discover that the only people who had children while he was asleep were morons, and that eventually leads to inbreeding and eventually the only people left were the morons. It was scary, and vaguely plausible, I thought.

They say that woman are more apt to have children with birth defects if they have children after 35 or so (or something like that.) So my friends are probably hearing the clock ticking. or maybe not. I think a good deal of it has to do with the fact that everyone else is having kids, so you want to do it, too. So, maybe the reason that my friends don't have any kids is because they don't have any kids, so there's no pressure. It's entirely possible that nobody wants kids (and I was right all along), but sometimes it's just a biological thing, right? All species do it, right? Time comes, a suitable mate is there, and WHAMMO! It's just science.

I don't even know where I'm going with this one, but I just wanted to point out that I'm not the only one. I'm just the most vocal. Or maybe it is me and I've just surrounded myself with people who don't want to have children. And I'm certainly not complaining about it, because I'm not a big fan of Christenings and stuff. Just sayin' is all.

Or maybe I am just that persuasive.