Wisdom and a Prostitute

I downed a full glass of beer and stood up on the table.
"Listen!" I yelled. "I know most of you are here because of me." Everyone became silent. "I just wanted to say that I don't care."
"Care about what?!" someone shouted from the crowd.
"I don't care that you're here," I continued. "You mean nothing to me. Why do you think I'm leaving? Sure, most of us have had some good times; but those times are over. I can't stand you people anymore. I know I'll be missed, especially by some of the women here. I've dated some of you, fucked you, wined you, dined you, hucked you, chucked you; I even spanked a few of you. I know you're all thinking I'm acting like an asshole right now but allow me to tell you that I've always been an asshole. I came here to have a few drinks on my last night in this rotten town. I didn't invite any of you to come because I didn't want to see any of you. You all make me sick."
I stepped down off the table and almost slipped on some spilt beer. I grabbed my pack of cigarettes and walked towards the back door.
"Are you leaving?" Greg asked.
"I'm just having a smoke," I said.
"That was some speech. Was it supposed to be serious?"
"You tell me," I said, and walked away.
As I opened the back door I saw a couple of girls that I used to hang out with, waiting for a cab.
"And here he is," one of them said, "the big man on campus."
"Why don't you tell us how much you hate us," another one said.
"Yeah, tell us what skanks we are," said the last one.
"Listen," I said, "I don't hate you girls on a personal level; I hate all women."
They started walking aggressively towards me.
"Just wait a second," I said. "Hear me out. I've always hated women; but women hate men too so it's an even trade."
"We don't hate men," said Gina, the tallest and better looking one of the group, “we just like to use them."
"And I like to use women," I said. "Why can't we just get drunk and use each other? I mean, just throw respect completely out the window, get blackout drunk in a hotel room and see where that takes us.”
“You’re dreaming,” said Natasha, a short brunette with curly hair.
“Oh, I’m dreaming alright,” I said, “but not about you. What do you say Gina?”
“Are you kidding me?” she asked.
“I never joke about getting blackout drunk.”
“Is this how you pick up women these days?” asked Tawnya, the timid one of the group. She wasn’t a virgin, but everything from her clothes to her personality said otherwise.
“I’m not really into picking women up,” I said, “I prefer dropping them after a good fuck.”
“You’re awful,” said Tawnya.
“You really are an asshole, Nick,” Gina said.
“I’m guessing none of you are willing to blow me then?”
“He’s always been an asshole,” said Natasha as they walked towards a cab. “And by the way, you can blow yourself.”
“That’s a damned lie!” I yelled. “And believe me, I’ve tried!” I lit a cigarette and stared off into the clouds.
“That was a good one, man!” said a young guy who looked no older than eighteen.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said, and put my smoke out and went back inside. I walked over to the bar immediately and tried to avoid the crowd. The bartender saw that I was waiting but chose to ignore me.
“Can I get a double Crown Royal over here,” I said.
He looked over at me but continued talking to a waitress.
“Hey buddy! Some whiskey; come on!” I yelled.
He held up his hand and gave me the ‘one minute’ signal. What a prick.
“Listen, I haven’t got all night! Get your ass over here!”
“You got a fucking problem or something?” he asked, as he finally walked towards me.
“You’re damned right I got a fucking problem. I’m standing sober in a bar. Do you mind doing your job and pouring me a drink. You do want a tip, don’t you?”
“Do you want your cheap looking ass thrown out of here?”
I looked down at my shirt which was all black with no brand name, and rum spilt across the chest. “I got style, mother fucker. Don’t let the stain fool you. And judging by your attire, you wouldn’t know style if it slapped you in the fucking face.”
“Everybody’s tough when they’re drunk,” he said, then poured my drink.
I handed him more than enough cash for the whiskey. “You can keep the change and by yourself some makeup; or save up for a fucking face lift,” I mumbled, as I walked towards my table.
“Nick, over here!” yelled Greg.
God damn it, I thought; why won’t he leave me alone? I sat down across from him at the table. Greg and I had been friends for five years. We hung out a lot for the first few years, but then, just like everyone else, he got annoying. He was sitting with Angela, an ex girlfriend of mine, and her best friend Jamie; a real stuck up bitch.
“What are you drinking?” asked Greg.
“Whiskey; I always drink whiskey,” I told him.
“I’m trying out some of this cider. I’ve never had it before. It’s actually pretty good. It’s sweet but not too…”
I interrupted him. “Did you say you’re drinking cider?”
“Here we go,” said Jamie.
“What do you mean, ‘here we go’? Nobody asked you to be here. I’ve always hated you.”
“You’ve always hated everyone,” said Angela. “That’s why I broke up with you.”
“You couldn’t fuck for shit,” I said and stood up.
“Don’t go, man. It’s your last night before you move to Europe. Let’s just get drunk and stop fighting,” Greg said.
“I’m not going to spend my last night here drinking with an ex girlfriend, a cunt, and a queer that sips on cider.” I walked over to the bar and slammed my empty glass on the counter. “You need to clean this glass,” I said to the bartender, “along with your whore of a mother’s dirty pussy!” I yelled, and quickly made my way out the front door. I saw a cab pull up and ran over and got in.
“Go!”
“Where to sir?” the driver asked.
“Just drive!”
As the car started moving forward I saw the bartender come charging out the front door. I rolled down the window and leaned my head out as he ran closely behind the cab.
“Get your ass back here!” he screamed. “Get your coward ass back here!”
“I’m leaving mother fucker! I’m going to fuck your girlfriend! I’ll fuck every crevasse on her fat ass!”
I closed the window and grinned as the driver stared at me through the rear view mirror.
“You like that?” I asked.
He looked straight ahead and continued to drive silently.
“What’s wrong? You don’t like what I did?”
His eyes panned back and forth from the rear view mirror to the road.
“Stop checking me out,” I said. “I’m not into any cab driver confessions or whatever else you got planned. Just take me to the airport and keep your eyes on the road.”

I had six hours to wait for my flight. I thought about sleeping but the craving for more alcohol outweighed my exhaustion. There was a bar beside the waiting area so naturally I walked over to it and ordered a drink. I saw an older man finishing a drink in the corner. I paid for my drink and looked around. There was a young brunette sitting at a table minding her own business. She looked lost like the rest of us. Her hair was wild but she seemed tame. She had probably just gotten out of a gang bang in the washroom. She must be an airport prostitute, I thought.
She saw me staring at her so she lifted her drink. “To failure,” she said.
“And misery,” I said, as I lifted my glass.
“You getting on a plane?” she asked.
“I was thinking about it. I bought a ticket, went through customs, and walked all this way. I should probably go through with it.”
She laughed. “You’re probably right. I can’t wait to get out of this city.”
“Where you headed?”
“Europe.”
“Good choice.”
“Where you off to?”
“Europe as well,” I said.
“Where abouts?”
“Italy; I’ve got some family there. I’ve only met them once when I was about five years old. I barely remember what they look like.”
“Sounds like you got it all figured out.”
“It sounds a lot better than it is.”
“Everything does,” she said, and we both took a sip of our drinks. “What are you working on there?”
“Whiskey.”
“Whiskey’s about all I drink.”
“You don’t say,” I said, as I walked over and sat across from her.
“Now now,” she said, “don’t be getting any ideas.”
“Shit,” I said, “and here I was, hoping I’d get to see your office.”
“My office?”
“Where all your business takes place; the washroom.”
“I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”
“You’re an air whore, aren’t you?”
“What the hell’s an air whore?”
“An airport prostitute; you find rich looking businessmen who are waiting for their flights.”
“Are you serious?”
“I’m drunk.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“I’m always serious when I’m drunk. Everyone is.”
“Well no, I’m not an air hoe.”
“Air whore.”
“Whatever. I’m not a hoe, a whore, or anything of the sort.”
“I thought about being a whore once,” I said.
She laughed. “You’re something.”
“I’d make a great whore.”
“Is that so? And what kind of women would you whore yourself out to?”
“Anybody,” I said. “I could sell sex to a nun.”
“I didn’t think nuns were allowed to have sex?”
“Well, that’s just how good I’d be.”
She laughed. “Well, how about another drink? We have a few hours to kill.”
“You paying?”
“Absolutely not. You’re the man, you pay.”
“Maybe you should pay,” I said.
“Why’s that?
“Well, if I pay, then I’ll actually start believing you’re an air whore.”
“Don’t piss me off,” she said. “We’ll switch, round for round. I’ll get the first one.”
“I can deal with that.”
We got a few more shots of whiskey and talked about Italy. She told me she was going to travel from the North all the way to the South. She didn’t have a plan but she didn’t seem to think she’d run into any problems. I told her I was going to Urbino to work with my Great Uncle at a bakery.
“You’re not going to travel a bit first?” she asked.
“I don’t care to sight see. I’m going so I can get the hell out of this place.”
“That’s one way to do it.”
“I can’t stand the people here.”
“What people?”
“Everybody; my friends, my family, the traffic, the people I work with, the cashiers at the grocery store, the bus drivers, the people on the street that walk so god damned slow when you’re behind them; all those fuckers.”
“So, by everybody, you really did mean everybody?” she laughed. “What makes you think these people don’t exist in Italy?”
“Oh, I don’t think that. They exist everywhere. I just get a good feeling when I think of living in Italy.”
“You just like the idea of all the women and the wine.”
“The wine comes before the women.”
“I can’t disagree with that,” she said.
I stood up after finishing my drink. “Listen,” I said, “I’m going to the washroom but I’ll be back.”
“I should be here when you get back,” she said.
“It’s not like you have a place to go.”
“Then again, my glass is a little dry. I just might have to find someone else to buy me a drink.”
“Get a couple more then,” I said, and put some cash on the table.
I staggered through the crowd and made it into the washroom. I didn’t think she’d be waiting for me once I got back to the table after I realized I had given her some money. She could be working the bars for free drinks and really, that doesn’t sound like a bad idea.
“Fuck I hate airports,” I said to an older man who was shaving at the sink. “Too many god damned people walking around.”
“Would you mind putting your dick back in your pants before starting a conversation with me son,” he said. He looked like a war veteran; a real hard ass.
I finished pissing in the urinal and zipped up. “Not comfortable with male nudity?” I asked.
“If you call that male nudity; hell, I’ve seen bigger bullets than that.”
“I like your style,” I said, as I washed my hands in the sink next to him.
“Now you’re hitting on me?”
“You got some attitude, old man. You’re an asshole, which is fine by me.”
“I’m no asshole, son. I’m a rotten, bitter old man. I’ve taken enough shit in my day to be nice and generous.”
“Amen,” I said.
“A God boy too huh?” he said, and spat on the floor.
“Oh, no; it’s just a saying.”
“Yeah, it’s a saying for all those Christian cocksuckers. I bet if one of those bible thumpers actually met God they’d get on their knees and open wide.”
I laughed. “He’d do it too. With the hell we go through each day, I bet he’d love sticking his cock in everyone’s mouth. If I was God, I’d definitely make a lot of people suck my dick.”
“You’re a real son of a bitch, kid. What’s your name?”
“I’m just an asshole. My name’s Nick.”
“You get a lot of women with that foul mouth?”
“Now and then.”
“If there’s one thing a woman loves, it’s a man with a dirty mouth.”
“They pretend they’re offended by it.”
“Oh, it’s not pretend. They are definitely offended by it, but that’s why they love it so much. It shows you aren’t a prissy young boy, acting like a fairy just because they’re around.”
“I always say, you should just say what you gotta say.”
“Just shut up boy. You can’t go around running your mouth to everyone, any time you god damned well want to.”
“You were running your mouth to me not even five minutes ago.”
“You’re drunk; you’re smaller than me, and you don’t have a damned clue. You remind me a lot of myself at your age; a cocky little shit. You need to be cocky though. These broads aren’t looking for nice guys. They like the dangerous types, the risk takers, all the crazy bastards.”
“I take a risk every time I fuck a woman without a condom. I live a dangerous life of dodging STD’s, and I’m crazy enough to continue doing it.”
“Exactly! And you’ve got to keep doing it. Fuck every broad willing to spread her legs for you. Take them all for granted. Don’t use condoms; don’t use lube; don’t use any of that shit. You’ve got to do it raw, do it fast, and get the hell out.”
“You’ve got some wisdom there old man.”
He rinsed his face and threw his disposable razor in the trash. “Now, if you haven’t had too much to drink and your dick still works, go find a broad out there and bring her in here. Then once you get the job done and get on your plane, you’ll fall asleep in no time,” he said, and walked out.
I thought about having a cigarette in the washroom but decided it wasn’t worth the risk. They treat smokers like terrorists these days. After opening the door to go back to the bar, the young brunette stepped into the doorway.
“Need any help in there?” she asked.
“Like someone to hold my dick?”
“Hold it, lick it, suck it, fuck it,” she said.
Jesus, I thought, she’s a prostitute after all. “I knew you were an air whore!”
“I’m whatever you want me to be if you’re money’s right.”
“Now you’re talking.”
She pushed me lightly back into the washroom and locked the door behind her. “It’s a hundred for the mouth and two hundred for the goods.”
“Shit, I could jerk off for free."
"You want it before a flight, you've got to pay for it. Take it or leave it."
"By the goods, you mean both holes?”
“Any hole; if you can fit into it, give it all you got baby.”
I handed her a hundred.
“So, you’re a blowjob kind of a guy?”
“I’ll pretend that I’m God.”
“A role player too, OK, I’ll make you feel like God.”
She ripped my pants down and pushed me back into a stall. I tripped and landed sitting on a toilet. Good thing the seat was down, I thought. I closed my eyes while she went to work. It was real rough and messy; she really knew was she was doing. She stopped for a second and reached into her purse and pulled out a flask with some whiskey in it.
“Have some of this, on me,” she said, and went back to work.
I started chugging the whiskey as she went harder. She was like a machine. I finished the flask almost immediately after she gave it to me. I stretched out my legs as I finished and knocked her back out of the stall door.
“Fucking Christ!” she yelled.
“Christ is right baby,” I said. “You really did make me feel like God.”
“Watch your legs!”
“These are the legs of God himself. Look how sexy they are.”
She got up and rinsed her mouth in the sink.
“So, you’re not going to Italy?” I asked. The bathroom door slammed shut a few minutes later. Well, I thought, I guess I won’t get to introduce her to my family. That’s a shame, because I’m sure they’d love to meet an airport prostitute.

My First Romanian

After finishing my lunch I poured a drink and picked up the phone to call her.
"Hello," she answered.
"Is this Ramona?"
"Yes. Who's this?
"It's Nick. We met at the party last night."
"Nick?"
"Remember, I told you I was going to run for Mayor to clean up the city and you went on and on about how you think the city is fine the way it is; which, by the way, is complete bullshit."
"It's not bullshit! I remember you! We shared some whiskey together in the kitchen and I listened to you rant."
"Are you kidding me? That wasn't a rant. I was just trying to enlighten you. I try to enlighten every female I meet."
"Nope! I'm pretty sure I just listened to you rant!" she laughed. "What makes you think females need to be enlightened?"
"They need a lot more than that, darling."
"Is that so?"
"That's why you see more females attending college and university."
"I don't think there's more females in college and university. I've been going to university for two years and I haven't noticed anything like that."
"Obviously not. Nobody has enlightened you on the matter yet."
"You're a cheeky one. Maybe there's more females in college and university because we're smarter and able to accomplish more than a man."
"See, I knew you'd say something like that."
"Of course you did."
"The thing is men already know everything they teach in college and university."
"Then why are their men at colleges and universities around the world?"
"To get laid."
She laughed. "There may be some truth to that, actually."
"Of course there is. Everything I say has some truth to it."
"Only some truth?"
"Well, I'm not going to lie."
"Wouldn't only 'some' truth mean that you are in fact lying?"
"Just forget it."
"Wow, The Great Nick gets stopped in his tracks. That probably doesn't happen to you very often, does it?"
'Young blond Ramona gets tied down to some tracks. That's probably never happened to you, has it?"
"No, I can't say it has."
"Well, let's keep it that way; for now."
"You're evil!"
"Just wait till I'm Mayor."
"I'll personally see that you never become Mayor!"
I took a sip of the drink I had forgotten about.
"Nick?"
"Yeah, I'm here. I'm just having a drink."
"Oh, so that's how it is. Alcohol is more important than me?"
"That's precisely how it is."
"Hey! That's not the way to talk to a lady!"
"Whoever said you were a lady?"
"You saw me last night!"
"Do you actually think I remember last night?"
"You remembered me."
"I remembered a blond that stole some of my whiskey. I got your phone number from Anthony so I could collect."
"Collect what?"
"Well, I think you owe me some whiskey."
"Well, I think you owe me some more enlightenment."
"Are you mocking me?"
"I would never do such a thing."
"It's a deal. You give me some whiskey and I'll let you in on some grown up issues."
"Grown up issues? How young do you think I am?"
"Well, hopefully no older than thirteen."
"You're disgusting!"
"I'm kidding. Thirteen is a little too old for me."
"Oh my god…"
"So, do you want to write down my address?"
"After hearing comments like that you expect me to get whiskey plus bring it right to your doorstep?"
"That's the price of intelligence babe."
"Fine…"
I gave her my address and she said she'd be over before 8pm.

At about 7:30 I opened a bottle of wine. I knew Ramona was bringing whiskey but I couldn’t wait that long. I had to have something to get my thoughts flowing. She was expecting some sort of information and by the sounds of it, she needed it. I’m going to help this poor girl, I thought; I’m going to change her life.
I heard a knock. “Well well,” I said as I opened the door, “the maid is off tonight so the place may be a bit messy. Also, my lobbyist ate all the food while we were working on my campaign; I hope you’re not hungry.
“I’m fine,” she said, as she took her coat off.
I looked over and noticed how thin her wrists were. My god, I thought, her skin is almost transparent she’s so skinny. She had short blond hair and wore a lot of thick, expensive clothing; probably to hide how skinny she was.
“Are you sure you don’t want something to eat?”
“I’m fine.”
“Seriously, I have food. You can eat if you want.”
“I’d rather have a drink.”
I walked into the kitchen with the whiskey. Not even alcohol can turn this skeleton into a human being.
“Are you going to make me a drink?”
“I’m making one right now.”
“Don’t make it too strong!”
I put the bottle to my lips and let it flow in. I needed a miracle to make this work.
“How do you turn the T.V. on?”
What a great idea, I thought. I can stare at the T.V. and try not to think about her arm shattering if she leans against me. “I’ll be there in a sec.”
“I got it! See, I’m smart!”
She turns a T.V. on and acts like she built a plane engine… from scratch. “Good, good,” I said as I walked into the living room with the drinks, “now maybe you can hand me the remote.”
“I can handle it, don’t worry.”
“I’m not worried. There’s just a show I want to watch.”
“Which one?”
“Saving Private Ryan.”
“What’s that?”
“You’ve never seen it? It’s a World War 2 movie with Tom Hanks.”
“I don’t like war movies.”
“Of course you don’t, you gypsy.”
“Gypsy?”
“I know you’re Romanian.”
She laughed. “How do you know I’m Romanian?”
“You told me last night.”
“I thought you didn’t remember last night?”
“It comes and goes. So, have you ever churned butter?”
“Excuse me?”
“You know, Romanians and all their churning.”
“What the hell is churning?”
“I don’t know. Something Romanians do.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Well, I’m sorry I can’t enlighten you about churning butter. Fortunately, I’m not Romanian.”
“Hey! That’s not nice.”
“Neither is lying about whether you churn butter or not.”
“OK, seriously, I don’t know what churning butter is. Romania is known for skiing and rock climbing, castles, and Transylvania.”
“Oh, right. Dracula and all that shit.”
“Yes, Dracula…” she said.
“Then who churns butter?”
“I don’t know who the hell churns butter or what churning butter even is!”
“I think it’s like making wine. You know how people get in barrels filled with grapes and stomp them with their feet to make wine? I think Romanians get in barrels filled with butter and just slide around in it with their bare feet. That’s got to be what churning is.”
“Who knows?”
“Let’s leave it at that. Romanians in barrels of butter with their bare feet; problem solved.”
I grabbed the remote and put Saving Private Ryan on.
“I told you I don’t like war movies!”
“Let’s watch a little. Learn to enjoy the sound of gunfire and the sight of mutilated bodies and destroyed cities.”
“You’re strange.”
We sat there for a bit watching the movie. I started drinking heavily to take my mind off her body. It was almost unbearable. I couldn’t even look in her direction. I noticed her moving a bit closer to me on the couch.
I stood up quickly. “Another drink?” I asked.
“I’m still finishing this one.”
“That's your first one. What the hell is wrong with you?”
“I’ve only been here for 15 minutes. What do you mean what’s wrong with me?”
“I’ve had four drinks already. Plus some wine before you got here!”
“Why did you have wine before I came?”
“I didn’t want to wait for you. You know, girls and being late and all that.”
“I wasn’t late though.”
“I couldn’t take that risk.”
"Fine, pour me another drink."
"Atta girl."
I walked into the kitchen and took another drink straight from the bottle. Jesus, I thought, I'm starting to lose it. Maybe I should just shove some food down her throat?
"Did you want anything to eat now?"
"Just the drink please."
I brought the drinks along with the bottle back into the living room. I'm going to need all I can get.
"Why are you bringing the bottle in here?"
"I'm tired of getting up and going into the kitchen."
"Oh, well, thanks for the drink."
"Don't mention it. It's not like I paid for it," I said as I winked at her.
She laughed. "So, how about my lesson on grown up issues?"
"Not now babe. Look, someone's about to get shot in the head."
"I don't care. I'm not watching this, Nick."
"Well, I am."
"We'll see about that," she said, as she grabbed my head and pulled it towards her. I tried to resist but for a 42 pound girl she had some strength. I started to kiss her then felt a tongue smear accross my upper lip. It moved accross my cheek and then she shoved it violently into my mouth and almost choked me. I pushed her back, not caring if I snapped a limb off her body.
"What's wrong?," she asked.
"Oh, nothing," I said, as I wiped my face off with my shirt. "I just really want to see someone get shot in the face."
She grabbed me again and pulled me till I was laying on top of her.
I jumped up in fear. "Jesus christ!" I yelled. "Are you OK?"
"I'm fine! My god Nick, what's wrong with you?"
"Well, you know, uh, I'm not that light."
"Don't worry about it. I'll be fine," she said, and pulled me in for round 3.
I started to kiss her again from the side and kept my eyes on the movie. I only opened my mouth slightly just in case she tried to choke me again. I felt her tongue thrusting against my lips, trying to find an entrance. It was like the crusades trying to break into a castle to take it over. I wasn't giving in. She started flailing her tongue around rapidly all over the edge of my mouth. This must be how they kiss in Romania, I thought. I reached my hand down and undid her pants carefully. I thought about taking them off, but I started to imagine her hips caving in if I tried. Her mouth started moving more furiously, full of anger. She wanted her tongue in my mouth, but I was holding her off as best as I could. She began punching me in the back. Her fists moved around, hitting my upper and lower back, and moving to my ribs.
"What the fuck are you doing?" I asked.
She slipped her tongue in my mouth and pushed it around all over. I tried to force it out, but it was too strong. It was the only muscle on her body. I finally managed to get it out.
"Listen," I said, "stop for a second."
"What?"
"What's with all the punching?"
"It's fun," she said, as she hit me again in the ribs.
"Stop! Seriously, what's wrong with you?" I grabbed the whiskey and had a drink. Maybe the churning butter comment pissed her off.
"That's right, take a drink; man up."
"It only took one drink to turn you into a maniac."
"Man up! Have another drink!" she yelled, as she punched me again in the spine.
"Seriously woman, what the hell is the matter with you!?"
She took her pants off, squirming underneath me like a worm.
"What do you think about that?" she said.
I looked down, hoping for the best. Her thin legs were underneath a pillow, thank god. "It looks great."
"Well, don't just stare at it!" She forced my head down between her thighs.
I went at it hard. If I can't enlighten this broad mentally, I'll do it physically. It tasted sweet, like pure sugar. It was like eating a bag of skittles. "I can taste the rainbow!" I yelled.
"Shutup!" she screamed. "Don't stop!"
I kept going and going as she screamed. I started to slow down, thinking about her body again. It was an awful sight, it really was. I almost came to a complete stop, thinking that she might be a squirter. I stuck my head out from between her thighs, like a soldier in a trench. "Mind if I finish you with my hand?"
"I guess," she said.
I leaned up beside her, making sure I wasn't on top of her and finished her off.
"Oh Nick, that was amazing."
I took a sip of the whiskey. She wasn't a squirter afterall. I took my pants off and looked at her.
"Give me a minute," she said.
Selfish, I thought, like all women.
"Come on now, the whiskey is flowing towards my dick. Once it gets there, the night is over."
"What do you want me to do?"
"What do you mean? Get it done babe."
"How?"
What the hell is this, I thought. "Just, I don't know, hop on." She got on top of me and laid there like a corpse while I put it in.
"I'm not sure what to do now," she said. "I've never been in this position before."
Dear god, I thought. What kind of gypsy trick is this? "Slide up and down. It's pretty self explanatory."
"Sorry, I've only had sex once before."
I started to get soft. "Just keep going," I said.
"I'm not sure if I'm doing it right."
I was almost completely limp now. I pushed her off.
"What's wrong? Was that bad?"
"Listen, it's hard to concentrate. You keep talking about how you don't know what you're doing. That's not helping. Can you just finish me off with your mouth?"
"Um, well, I've never done that before. I don't know what to do."
And now my dick basically curled into my body. "Ok, well, just use your hand."
She leaned against me and attempted to finish me off with her tiny, boney hands as I finished the whiskey. It wasn't happening so I stopped her. "Forget about it," I said, and put my pants back on.
"What's the matter? Are you mad?"
My phone started ringing; perfect timing.
"Hello?" I answered. It was a friend of mine, Randy. "I'll be back," I told Ramona. I walked out of the living room and went into my bedroom.
"What's up," Randy said.
"Oh, man, I'm in one hell of a situation. You got any alcohol?"
"Of course I do. You want to get out of that situation and come join this situation?"
"What situation are you in?"
"I'm just sitting here, getting black out drunk."
"That's my kind of situation."
"Come on over."
"I'll try to get out of this. See you soon."
I hung up and walked back into the living room. Ramona was still laying on the couch with her pants off.
"Everything OK?" she asked.
"Yeah, that was just my buddy Randy. He's sort of stuck at work because he missed his bus."
"He sort of missed his bus?"
"Well, he missed his bus. He has no way of getting home now."
"How far away does he work?"
"About 20 minutes away. He doesn't have any cash to cab home either. I told him I'd help him out and give him a ride."
"Oh, ok. Do you want me to go with you?"
"Uh, well, uh, do you mind if I just give you a call later?"
"You want me to wait here?"
The brains on this one, I thought. "No, I mean, I can give you a call at your place later, if you don't mind.
"So you want me to go home?"
"Well, I'll be a while, plus I'm pretty tired."
"Fine," she said, in an angry tone.
"Don't be mad," I said. "It's not like I planned this." I walked into the kitchen and had some of the wine I opened ealier. I heard the front door slam hard and that was it; she was gone. I picked up the phone and called Randy.
"Yo," he answered.
"Hey man, I'm out the door in a few minutes. I managed to get this crazy broad out of my apartment."
"Any advice?"
"Yeah, don't ask Romanians if they churn butter.