Business is not booming, and the bored cocktail waitress gives him that bored cocktail waitress look. The little look that tends to bore even him—more and more, more than even she looks. That same old look that is not the fun it once was to him, at least not today. Challenging him. I am so bored, I challenge you to amuse me, Mister Fuckin' Wonderful... That's you, right? Mister Fuckin' Wonderful...
Not that he doesn't get bored too. He is bored, right now. Sense failure, call it failure of his bright red-blooded, American-male senses. His senses fail him sometimes, they are so overloaded, especially with the Same One, over and over again. Fail him like almost happened tonight, before alighting in this bar, sitting down, drinking.
True, he has lived—and lives—on, off, by and for pussy. What red-blooded... Still does.
The sight, taste, smell, feel—and—sound of pussy.
What is life, after all?
It's pussy, stupid.
But sometimes even his senses fail him. Even he can get bored, can't always get it up. Happens.
Hell, happens...
Ins and Outs on the Ups and Downs that include some Notes on the Cut, Thrust and Parry that is part of the Great Game--Sexual Politics. And encompassing too Single Men and Women and the Pleasures of Youth.
