As I sashayed my dirty mouthy hooker ass into the bar, I could feel that it was going to be a good night. It was summer, my favorite time of year. I was wearing my favorite skimpy tank top that showed off my tattoo to perfection, my skin was a perfect golden brown, and the evening was warm but not hot…everything whispered of a night made for love.

I approached the bar and ordered my usual, flagging down the bartender with a single glance. I’m so frickin’ good. I took my drink and joined the rest of the Family von N at our table, sitting down carefully and scanning the crowd.

Hmmm…too cute, too short, too large…oh, my. Oh, my my my.

Our eyes met over the rim of his glass. His bangs fell over his tastefully acne’d forehead, making me want to tuck it back behind his ear…then wipe my hands off afterwards. Delicious.

His ability to pull off the casual-yet-totally-unhip look was utterly amazing. It was making me weak in the knees how those holey jeans and that Megadeth T-Shirt did absolutely nothing for him. How completely unattractive. I loved it, obviously.

He could tell that I was checking him out. His answering grin, with the two front teeth missing, was absolutely adorable. I think my heart actually almost skipped a beat. When he smiled, this squinchy-squinty thing happened with his eyes that made them even smaller than they were usually. He was a stud and he knew it.

I watched him make his way through the crowd. He shoved people out of the way like they weren’t even there. What a turn-on! I think I actually smelled him first…the combination of alcohol, cheap cologne, and that elusive “head hair” smell was enough to make me dizzy. Literally.

“Hi, darlin’,” he brayed in my face, on a gust of whiskey-laden breath complete with spittle spray. “I saw you checkin’ out the goods from across the room.”

“Yeah,” I said, fluttering my eyelashes for all I was worth. “I couldn’t help but notice such a perfect hunk o’ man meat. I’m glad you came over here.” He preened under my flattery. Dandruff flakes drifted loose from his lank locks to settle securely on the shoulders of his perfectly grimy demin jacket.

“Honey, I knew you wanted it from the moment I saw you lookin’. You’re a pretty little armful, aren’t you?” He leered at my cleavage hungrily. In fact, I don’t think his eyes strayed upward from there throughout the entire conversation. I think I swooned.

We continued our fascinating conversation, he shared with me how he fell off the wagon three months ago, but that he was really trying this time, really, and any day now he was going to quit for good, and he almost lost his trailer to the feds, but not quite because he managed to dig up some dirt on some conspiracy about Area 52 and some of what he called “visitors” from another planet, or something. I didn’t care. He was so utterly disgusting that I couldn’t help myself. I was falling hard.

Some times later, he leaned in close. I almost gagged with the scent emanating from his clothes. Perfection. “Howz about you-n-I get outta here and get somewheres more comfortable. That’s a cute outfit you got on, but I gotta tell you, it would look better on my bedroom floor!” He honked with laughter. I was getting weak in the knees.

“Okay,” I said. I let the Family know I was leaving, ignored their skeptical looks, and followed him out to the car. He grabbed my ass on the way out the door. I almost threw myself on him then and there.

We made it to the parking lot. I looked around for his rig. I assumed it would be something ultra sexy, like a Yugo, or even (gasp!) a moped.

Instead, I watched him fish his keys out of his pocket and point a clicky thing at a nearby Mercedes, a great ugly brute of a car, disgustingly free of dents, scratches, or any abrasions at all. To my ultimate disappointment, the tabs weren’t even expired.

I turned a questioning gaze in his direction. He was beaming at me with something like pride! I stared in disbeleif, seeing my dreams crumble to ashes. He was supposed to be a loser! A “bad boy”! Instead, I realized he was just a poser, someone pretending to be the kind of disgusting, grease-ball loser that every girl secretly (or not-so-secretly, in my case) desired, but not really like that at all.

He saw my disappointment, and his grin faltered. “What’s the matter, baby? Don’t you like my ride?”

“I thought you’d have a Yugo! Or even…or even…” my voice broke. This was just too much disappointment. “Or even…a moped! How could you do this to me? You don’t even have a trailer, do you?!” I was shrieking by now. “You probably even shower more than once a week, and never even give your girlfriends a friendly love slap every once in a while! My heart is broken! I thought we had something! I thought you were special!”

This was simply too much. I turned away.

“Well, mister, you can just kiss this ass goodbye, you un-loser!” I continued haranguing him, in perfect fish-wife fashion, until finally he caved under my onslaught, climbed in his car, and sped away into the night. The stupid thing didn’t even backfire!

I wiped a last tear from my eye.

Goodbye, baby, I thought to myself. We could have made something together. We could have had little greasy babies.

Oh well, I consoled myself as I made my way back inside. There’s more where he came from. The world is full of assholes.

LFB I keep forgetting this damn thing!

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