Human Garbage
Alyna gives me shit when I call her and tell her that my buddy, Todd, wants to meet me after work for a few beers. She says, “You know I don’t care if you want to get beers with Todd, but you have to give me more than three hours’ notice.”
I wonder why she’d require more notice. I know she has no plans that my impromptu after-work beers could possibly be ruining. I assume it’s just some personal-consideration issue she thinks is at play, even though it’s really not. I say, “He said he had something important to talk to me about. I’ll be home before ten.”
“Okay, but seriously, before ten. And you owe me a foot rub.”
“Okay. See you at ten.”
“You said before ten.”
“I meant ten at the latest.”
“At the latest.”
“Yeah, that’s what I said.”
“Okay. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
I hang up and catch myself literally shaking my head in disbelief at the shit I have to deal with in order to meet a friend for a few beers after work. I wonder if other married guys go through similar shit. I wonder if other married guys at least get to fuck their wives with some regularity. That would make the shit more tolerable, at least. I’m guessing they endure the exact same shit.
I close my spreadsheets, shut down my computer, lock the door to my office, and wonder how Gina, our receptionist, likes to be fucked as I tell her good night and head out to my car. As I drive to meet Todd, I decide it’s doggy-style with a finger in her asshole.
Todd’s already sitting at the bar in Firefly on Ventura when I walk in. He’s on his second beer. He says, “What’s yip, deuce?”
I say, “What?”
“I tried texting ‘What’s up, dude?’ to you today and the swipe shit on my phone turned it into ‘What’s yip, deuce?’ so I’m making that my new ‘What’s up, dude?’ So what’s yip, deuce?”
I sit down next to him and say, “Same old shit, man.”
“How those kids treating you?”
“As well as kids can treat you, I guess. They cry, they shit their pants, they require constant attention.”
“Sounds fun.”
“It’s not.”
I order a beer and say, “So what’s yip, deuce? What’d you want to tell me?”
“Dude, nice usage. Nikki wants to move in with me.”
“And . . .”
“And I think I’m gonna cut her loose.”
“Seriously? I thought you were into her. You guys have been together for a long time, right?”
“A year, dude. Longest girlfriend of all time. I was seriously into her. Her tits are great, she loves to fuck all the time, she usually smells pretty good, sometimes she cooks me shit, she’s even pretty cool—knows about movies and TV shows and shit.”
“Then what’s the deal?”
“She’s human garbage, dude. She’s fucking twenty-eight. She waits tables and still thinks she’s going to be a singer and a model and all of this other bullshit that everyone but her knows is a fucking pipe dream. I can’t fucking listen to her tell me about how she’s going to get a band together and start doing shows anymore.”
“Sounds real bad.”
“Fuck you. It is. She’s just annoying as fuck with this singing shit, and now I guess because we’ve been going out for so long, she’s comfortable enough to fart around me. And she pisses with the door open.”
“So the romance is gone.”
“Do you know how fucking fast morning wood goes away when you walk into the bathroom to piss because the fucking door’s open and you see your girlfriend grunting while she’s taking an actual shit? I don’t think I can deal with it anymore, dude.”
“That sucks, but you gotta do what you gotta do, I guess.”
“I know, but then what the fuck do I do? I ain’t getting any younger, dude. I doubt I can find another chick that I like even remotely as much as Nikki, and I’m pretty close to outright hating her.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
“It’s not. It sucks dick.”
“So why did you want me to come out? Are you asking my advice here or what?”
“No. I’m going to pull the plug. But I figure I should fuck her a few more times, cum in her ass, cum on her face once or twice—fuck, maybe even get some video of it. You know, really concentrate on getting some good memories to jerk off to once it’s all over. And then in a few weeks she’ll bring up the moving-in thing again and I’ll say I don’t want to and that’ll probably be it. What I want to ask you is, can I count on you to step it up with going out and being a wingman?”
“Fuck, man, I have kids and shit. Alyna wasn’t real happy about me even coming out to meet you tonight for a few beers.”
“Thank you for validating my choice to dump Nikki with that statement. I’m never going to get married. I can’t fucking end up like you. I’ll kill myself. No offense.”
“It’s all right.”
“Don’t you ever miss when we’d go out and get hammered and wrangle some random bitches?”
“Yeah, of course, but we’re fucking old now, man. I miss it in the way a pro baseball player who’s fifty probably misses the way he could hit a five-hundred-foot home run when he was twenty.”
“Dude, no offense again, but you were never a pro baseball player of picking up chicks.”
“Whatever, man. But right now we’re the creepy old guys sitting at the end of the bar who we used to fucking make fun of when we were young. I’m not too into that.”
“Really?” Todd indicates the other end of the bar with a head nod. I look in the direction he’s nodding and see a guy who’s definitely creepier and older than Todd and me. I say, “Fuck, man. That’s some serious old and creepy. We’re getting there, though.”
“That’s not how I see it at all. We’re in a sweet spot, dude. Old skanks will fuck us because we’re younger than they are but not too young to be able to pick up a check at Crustacean or some shit, and young skanks will fuck us because we have our shit together enough to even be able take them to a joint like Crustacean. Look at those two bitches.” Todd nods toward two girls sitting on a couch in the corner. They look young, probably in their early twenties. He says, “Let’s try to pick them up tonight.”
I say, “No.”
He says, “I’m not saying we fuck them or anything, just see if we can still do it.”
I say, “Just to see if we can? There are only two outcomes and they’re both bad. One, they fucking laugh at us and we confirm my suspicion that we’re way too old to be doing shit like this. Or two, they’re actually into us, which is even fucking worse because I can’t fuck them, so instead I go home gritting my teeth so fucking hard at the thought of one of their tight asses on my dick that I give myself TMJ or some shit.”
“Why can’t you fuck one of them?”
“I’m fucking married, dickhead.”
“We all make decisions. Now don’t be a fucking pussy.” Then he gets up off his bar stool and makes his way over to the two girls.
I stay where I am and watch him from across the room. He sits down next to one of the girls and starts talking. He talks to them for a minute or so, and neither of them seems receptive at first, but then he makes some kind of face, clearly telling a joke or some funny story, and he gets one of them to laugh. Then he points over to me and both of the girls look in my direction. Todd beckons me over with a wave of his hand and I find myself getting up from my seat. On the surface I know I’m doing this to help my friend, to not be a dick to him in his time of need. But below that, I can feel myself hoping that I can still pick up a chick, that I haven’t become too old and too married to get one of these two girls to think of me as someone whose dick she wants in her pussy, that I have any small piece of the person I used to be somewhere still inside me, that I’m still alive.
I sit down next to them. Todd says, “This is Sandy and this is Kayla.” I try my best to be amicable, to laugh when it seems appropriate, to be interesting and charming, and it seems like I’m making some headway. After maybe half an hour of talking to these girls, Sandy, a recent graduate of UCSB who came to Los Angeles to pursue a career in acting, touches my arm as she tells me the name of her cat is Valentine. It seems like she’s flirting.
Todd, too, seems to be making headway with Kayla with exaggerated stories about his travels around the world as a reality-television producer. It slowly occurs to me that I would have no trouble finding girls to fuck if I were to find myself single again. Then Sandy says, “Is that a wedding ring?”
Before I can answer Todd says, “It was. His wife died almost two years ago, but he keeps the ring on to remember her.” I shake my head at Todd, silently offering my disapproval at his lie but not wanting to blow it for him with these girls, who both immediately offer their condolences to me.
We drink and talk about nothing important with these two girls for a few hours, until I notice that it’s almost ten. I want to stay. I want to see how far this could actually go. I wonder how pissed Alyna would be if I got home late. I could text her and tell her we’re having a few more beers, but I know it wouldn’t matter. She’d be pissed, with or without the text, if I didn’t get home by ten. I say, “Well, ladies, it’s been great meeting you. I have to be up early for work tomorrow, so I’m going to call it a night.”
Todd offers his objections, and the girls follow suit, but I tell them I have a very important meeting early in the morning. The reality is that I have a wife, a living wife, who will not suck my dick for a period of time that is even longer than normal if I come home late.
I give Todd some cash for my drinks, say good-bye to Sandy and Kayla, get hugs from them both, hope Alyna won’t smell their perfume on me, and head out to my car. I make it home a few minutes after ten, which Alyna is not happy about but is not genuinely pissed about, either. I rub her feet as promised to soothe any animosity she might have. I’m still a little buzzed when I get in bed, so I try to coax my wife into fucking me by rubbing my erection up against her ass when she rolls over. She ignores it and pretends to sleep.
I don’t jerk off once she actually falls asleep. Instead I stare at the ceiling, happy. Knowing that a random chick I met in a bar would have fucked me, that if I had to I could still go into the wild and hunt for my dinner, calms me more than blowing a load into my hand ever could. I think that for a few minutes, then I start thinking about Sandy’s tits and about what it would have been like if I had fucked her or gotten her to suck my dick. I slide out of bed, leaving Alyna sleeping, and go into the office.
I search for a clip of a girl getting fucked who looks as close to Sandy as I can find. I find one of a blond bitch with smallish tits, a big ass, and shoulder-length hair that is similar to what I remember Sandy’s looking like. I scroll through the video until I come to a segment that has her riding the guy’s cock in a POV shot. I jerk off for less than a minute and blow my load all over my hand. I clear the computer’s browser history, go to the bathroom, wipe the semen off my hand with one of the wipes Alyna uses to clean the kids’ asses, sneak back into bed undetected, and sleep peacefully.