Sitting in a candlelit bar of jazzy music and sophiscated olive snacks.
She says, 'Lets go, I need to pee and have sex.'
What is a guy to do but finish his drink real slow.
These moments don't come along that often, its best to savor them for as long as you can.
So you drink it slow, sip your drink then a cigarette then a sip and take in her desperation, the kind you understood the whole of your life, the teenage boy inside of you.
The desperation never goes away even into adulthood, it just matures, you get more secretive, more cunning at hiding the schoolboy routine of masturbation and a head full of a white bedroom alined with loose girls of varying shapes and sizes and likes all begging for you and you alone.
But this isnt a fantasy but reality so it happens just once in a lifetime. And it is not the same as when you are a teenage boy.
Back then you are innocent, arrogant and sure you can handle yourself in the minefield of sexual encounters.
Why would you think otherwise?
There is no knowledge of premature ejaculation, being soft, split condoms, lost condoms, passing out from drunkeness, the morning after ugliness and regret, the unanswered text messages, the silent walks past each other avoiding eye contact and worst of all the occasional times when your emotions flair and fire encircling your thoughts around a girl. Then your teenage boy ideals are lost, you are in love, and its too much for him to handle so you lose your sense.
So by the time many years later that you finally get your schoolboy fantasy, you are at too much of a lose to go through with it. You drink your drink slow and savor each cigarette one at a time.
You stare at the beautiful women who has had your desperation for an hour andyou smile.
Maybe they will finally understand you, maybe this can be the one who you are with always because now and maybe for the rest of your lives you can share your teenage desperation together.
But as she goes to pee she leaves you, she fucks the bartender in the toilet and you wait. You wait and you wait for her to return, you wait for too long beyond reason and logic because your teenage boy inside you is getting more and more desperate, more and more loud and franic for the hour you had when the tide had turned and you were at peace.
She does not return and you leave walking through the midnight steets holding hands with your teenage boy.