The Most Beautiful Phrase in the English Language
It's some hard god-damn work being a single cocaine addict in the city. Considering that only 15% of Americans* admit to regular cocaine use, chances are high that any lady I meet and go out with will not be a coke user, much less a coke addict. More than that, there's even a chance that someone I go out with will be ardently "anti-cocaine," which obviously wouldn't mesh well with my "penchant for sniffery." Countless are the times that women I've met have refused to call me back, or have even left in the middle of a date, once they realized that I had been sneaking to the bathroom for a bump every five minutes. And though these women are missing out on a wonderful person who just happens to be a raging, violent drug addict, I guess I understand where they are coming from.
Sure, I significantly increase the chances of meeting a "pro-coke" female by hanging out (as I do) at crack-dens, after-hours parties, and junkies' apartments on the bowery, but for the most part the women that frequent those types of places are not the types of women I need in my life right now. Case in point--last time I met a girl at an after-hours party, I woke up tied to dirty bed in Greenpointe, Brooklyn, with a young Malaysian boy with an accent playing with my feet. Believe it or not, it wasn't the strangest circumstance I've ever awoken to, but it was defintely in my top 20.
Last night, however, I met a lady who uttered to me the most beautiful phrase in the english language. I was out at a local watering hole in the East Village, drinking some beers and smoking some butts with a few friends, when I got into it with a young lass who was sitting in the stool next to me at the bar. After a few more beers and a few shots of tequila, the truth started to spill out about every topic from how gassy she gets when she eats roughage to how my favorite Golden Girl was Rue McLanahan. Of course, eventually we got to the topic of drugs, at which point I came clean about my little habit. But unlike the previous few girls I've been out with, however, this one did not get up and walk out, or tell me that she couldn't date a "user" upon learning of my little habit. Rather, she looked me right in the eyes and stated: "I like cocaine." And with that, we made our way into the bathroom together to do some lines off the back of a dirty urinal. Never a more romantic moment have I experienced.
All in all, it was a magical evening, and though I couldn't properly perform once we made it back to her bed, that doesn't change the fact that I think that she's a keeper. That is, until she starts to bogart my stash.
* This statistic was made up by the author and has no basis in fact.
Sure, I significantly increase the chances of meeting a "pro-coke" female by hanging out (as I do) at crack-dens, after-hours parties, and junkies' apartments on the bowery, but for the most part the women that frequent those types of places are not the types of women I need in my life right now. Case in point--last time I met a girl at an after-hours party, I woke up tied to dirty bed in Greenpointe, Brooklyn, with a young Malaysian boy with an accent playing with my feet. Believe it or not, it wasn't the strangest circumstance I've ever awoken to, but it was defintely in my top 20.
Last night, however, I met a lady who uttered to me the most beautiful phrase in the english language. I was out at a local watering hole in the East Village, drinking some beers and smoking some butts with a few friends, when I got into it with a young lass who was sitting in the stool next to me at the bar. After a few more beers and a few shots of tequila, the truth started to spill out about every topic from how gassy she gets when she eats roughage to how my favorite Golden Girl was Rue McLanahan. Of course, eventually we got to the topic of drugs, at which point I came clean about my little habit. But unlike the previous few girls I've been out with, however, this one did not get up and walk out, or tell me that she couldn't date a "user" upon learning of my little habit. Rather, she looked me right in the eyes and stated: "I like cocaine." And with that, we made our way into the bathroom together to do some lines off the back of a dirty urinal. Never a more romantic moment have I experienced.
All in all, it was a magical evening, and though I couldn't properly perform once we made it back to her bed, that doesn't change the fact that I think that she's a keeper. That is, until she starts to bogart my stash.
* This statistic was made up by the author and has no basis in fact.
posted by J at 1:35 PM
4 Comments:
i think we might be soulmates.
sometimes i have to go home early from dates because if i don't have any coke - or the guy doesn't have any, which should never happen, it should be a fucking dating requirement to have a bag in your pocket - because i can't stay awake.
make sure before she does that line she's not the same cokewhore that left you tied to a bed with a young filipino boy...
did i say filipino, i meant malaysian. I hate it when i confuse the two, damn!
edgar: where have you been all my life?
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