It was a few years ago that I realized that no one would believe my life story anyway. It was so unbelievably implausible, so random, that it read like bad fiction. So, I started writing bad fiction. I have yet to write down the story of working with the terrorist (yeah, you probably know his name.) Some of it is true, some of it is false, and I think I’m clever enough to balance on that line without giving too much away. Maybe. This is what happens when you give a redneck a college education and move him to the big city. It was all inevitable really.
I have three vices that I’ve struggled with my entire life: whiskey, weed, and women.
I’ve sworn off any more casual sex, I’ve stopped smoking weed, but if I give up the whiskey that’s my last pleasurable activity. I should probably take up running instead. So yeah, the other night, I’m glad Little Orphan Annie said no to coming back to my hotel. Three shots of Maker’s Mark and I start thinking with the little head. It’s like a compulsion. When they start doing that dance – the hair twirling, the lingering glances, the lip licking – well, I go nuts. It’s like it turns on some activation sequence and I find myself acting out without thinking. It’s all automatic. When you travel from city to city you never get a reputation – and you don’t know theirs – so it’s like a brand new game with brand new players every time.
I continue to be amazed – shocked really – about how easy modern 20-something white women are. I’ve had maybe one second date in my entire life, and that was with the Christian girl who was seriously looking for marriage and wasn’t going to put out anyway, so I didn’t even try. Honestly, it was refreshing, and fun, to “date” a girl I wasn’t sleeping with. What can I say, she was a great conversationalist, and stunningly pretty. I just enjoyed her company.
If I stop right now, I may still technically be under three digits. I have been tested and received a clean bill of health, so there’s that. My sister says I’m a slut, which is technically true. I have had real, long term relationships before. I have been in love. I’ve had my heart broken, and broken a few. I don’t have any children … that I know of, at least.
Take Californication crossed with Weeds crossed with the Sopranos and it’s something like that.
One of my old aunts did a family history. We come from a long line of … er … “adventurers” might be the right word. All the way back to Virginia in the early 1700s. My father won the genetic lottery brains-wise and went from a poor son of a former businessman gone bust turned sharecropper to a highly educated member of the military intelligence class. Found himself a stunningly pretty country gal and wifed her up at 21. Still happily married too, that’s how they did it back then.
If I stop now, I may actually get away with it.
As I watch the sun
set slowly I hold back the tears
And I can’t help but wonder
why the lord had to put me here
Caused I’ve raised hell
All night long
And I’ve seen a good
man go wrong
And I can’t help
The way that I am
Cause the whiskey weed and women
had the upper hand