A real fool that gets paid to talk to strangers in the street.

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Sunday, January 24, 2010

Union Square in Spring


Marvin: (a twenty-five year old flamboyant Cuban immigrant bus boy)
"I had an awful night Jack. You would never believe it."
"what happened dude?"
"Aw. I probably shouldn't tell you, its horrible."
"Seriously dude, what happened last night, tell me, I'm interested."
"I had a dream that I was sucking my own dick. I woke up sweating and
hyperventilating, and my whole day has been weird since."
"Marvin. There are some things you should just keep to yourself."


I work in a restaurant. Within the four walls of this establishment
there are many interesting people and events that take place. For
instance that dialogue that I just told you about. I'm Matty, a
bartender. This busboy Marvin who convinces me relentlessly that he is
of the same persuasion as me. (I like boobs) But I know the truth.
He's gay, and I think he made that story up to see how I would react.
If we could open up a sexually explicit dialogue between the two of us
and that would transform over time into an actual working together
late night cock twisting session. I'm not into that though so I
instantly dismiss his awkward statement and look at my reflection in
the mirror. Had I indulged with him he would have probably been
interesting. It probably would have been fun to record some of these
conversations and play them back for my other co-workers.

Vodka, gin, rum, tequila. That is how the bottles in a speed rack
should be placed in order for a bartender to make drinks. Those are
your four essential alcohols. With them you can move mountains and
kill people. With them you can make an entire room smile, and get your
best friend laid. Vodka is the universal and easy selection. It will
get you drunk, dumb drunk. Gin, It's sharp like a cheddar and makes
people talk faster. Rum, makes everybody the same thing, a mumbling
pirate, and tequila, well tequila, makes babies. There are other booze
selections that have there own effects and purposes, but those four
are the bill of rights for alcolhol, the Bible even. You can mix them
all together even in one drink, pour some coke and sour mix on it and
it is called a Long Island Ice Tea, but my first boss and bartender
teacher would call them "The leg Spreader."

I have actually never over my eleven-year span of making drinks for
people, or even socially used booze to lower a girls inhibitions. I
have most certainly given myself some for that purpose. I guess for me
it works better. You would look at me up and down, and based on my
stature, confidence, and behavior in public that I am a Don Juan with
the ladies. I do acquire female attention more often than not, but I
don't seek it. You would think that I had slept with half of New York
City, but I haven't. I have had one-night stands. I have gotten picked
up on a bus trip to DC. I have gotten hand jobs from cocktail
waitresses, and made love in central park. I do have a face that I
walk down the street with that I envision looks like Brad Pitt's, but
I still suck my thumb. I have a nice face and an innocent demeanor.

I love girls. I love every kind of girl. Even fat ones. They have
nothing to loose, well they do, obviously, but you get the point.
Girls from the Midwest are the only reason America is great. That's an
overstatement but they are the true apple pie of this nation, with
smiles that laser through you. Southern girls make my knee's week with
every syllable. I once had a girl from deep Texas give me a back
massage and whisper in my ear. I would do that again. I just went down
on my first Asian girl last month. Fuck yea that was fun. She was
soft. Older women are awesome. What they know just turns me on. Not
just sexually, what they know about everything, food, the seasons,
music, and pain. The more pain a girl has gone through emotionally the
more advanced they are sexually, and they most likely smoke. If a girl
smokes, she will blow you. Fact.

I have invaded groups of girlfriends and over a long span of time
either fondled or had sex with each one of them. I score cause I don't
care, and I don't care if I score. I'm gay in every sense of the word
except the fact that I don't like to touch, lick, or kiss boys or
their privates. I have the best friends in the world and I would
rather get drunk and laugh with them then go out girl hunting, but
that's usually when it happens. We are knuckleheads. We are those kids
in the middle of the room smacking each other and doing the sprinkler
dance. We are the mid twenties kids that still almost get arrested for
our pranks. We sometimes hug each other after an episode of Entourage.
We are the kids that touch the boiling water of society till it burns
our skin. We are Team Awesome. We have our own language, and we
understand the way things really work, or at least should. The world
is our cartoon and you are just characters in our half hour show. Not
even, you're the commercials.

Why am I telling you this? I just wanted to give you some insight into
how I operate. The layers of double M could be climbed for a long,
long time. Why am I telling you this? Because I want you to understand
that I am a misogynistic man. No I'm not. Like I said I love women. It
may sound negative in connotation. Trust me, it's not. The moments I
share with the opposite sex will only bring me good karma. I hope. The
truth of the matter is. I'm a sappy dude. I am one big goofy walking
romantic comedy. I love, love. Probably more than I should. I seek out
those moments on subways, in parks, and in just those glances that
purpose chances. Let's walk around and get excited about one another.
Can I make you giggle? Did you forget about your problems? Does the
past exist anymore? Can I kiss your stomach below your belly button?
Man those trees look cool. If you're smiling at me in between sips of
white wine on an outdoor patio in New York City and can't figure out
why. Then I'm doing my job.
 Do you like shellfish?

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