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.