Damaged Goods

“Wanna do an Irish Scotch?” the hot little cutie asks.


“no…NO!” I say in shock as I pull away from her.


My accumulated prudence has shown me that loading up quickly on high power alcohol will lead me to no good end. Plus, I don’t like being out of control.


She, on the other hand, was still young enough to think she can control it all.


It wasn’t an invitation to drink, it was an invitation to hang out and get to know one another better. But she might have well as said, “Hey, wanna hang out and mainline some heroin with me?”


She was pretty and younger. Nineteen years younger than me that is. The age difference wouldn’t have been such a big deal BUT she’s also a psycho.


I had heard enough about her past from others, from her own mouth and just generally studying her to know she’s dangerous. Not in an evil way mind you, just one bad decision after another type of dangerousness. She can barely keep her life’s canoe upright and dry.


If I had been much younger, these facts wouldn’t have stopped me. I would’ve easily invited her into my life. She would’ve satisfied my demands quickly. Cute, adorable and READY. And in, oh I’d say, 3 weeks time been I’d be regretting it all. But I turned down a very easy mark last night, and a cute one to boot. Within 20 minutes of my denial she was sitting on the hood of her Kia making out with, what looked like, a short and fat neo-Nazi/biker wannabe.


What is happening to me?


Now I have set up my own desk, a few chairs and interview women. “Can I see your resume? Are you currently employed? Are you a skilled or non-skilled worker? Do you careen your life from wall to wall, barely missing lethal obstacles all along the way? How many kids do you have? Are you a gold digging bitch?”


I do this in my head as I talk to women. I rate them on the FUCKED UP scale. And the little Miss I was enamored with last night scored “Outstanding” on FU scale!


And the older I get, the higher I set that bar. If you wish to apply for the position of knowing me well, please…please know how to at least live you life with some common sense!



Irish Scotch:


1 oz Jameson’s Irish Whiskey

1 oz Johnnie Walker Black Label


Pour over ice, strain and fill shot glass. Chuck it into your mouth, swallow. In two minutes, experience the “Technicolor yawn” as it all comes back up.