I ran this ad, you see, because I was tired of being a
lonely guy. For the last couple of
years, since my wife ran away with her dance teacher, I've regretted the days
because they catch me in their desolate clutches. I know I don't exist by myself on some vast
island, but I am alone. Sure there is
the mailman who drops envelopes through the slot in my door; there is the
upstairs neighbor's dog who whines every night at the wind; and there are the
boys on my job at Zippy Delivery who aren't too deep. I asked one of them, “What is life?” He said that life was pussy. That's all he could think of. So despite all of that stimulation along with
the animal sounds of the city and the
man and woman next door who beat on and love on each other until dawn, I was
still lonely.
I went to the bars.
But bar people try too hard to be cool and sultry, as if they're owners
of the universe and their silk clothes and gold neck chains are vestments of
royalty. I found myself silently
berating them.
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