
I bitch and moan about a thousand missed opportunities for love. Scornful and filled with an awkward mixture of Sake and cheap beer, I involuntarily sway to the orchestrated stomping of several black girls towards the end of the platform. They create a storm of rhythm that even the old white man in his 60s cannot resist, grabbing his sweetheart for a late night dance. I move towards the impromptu step group.
“Excuse me, I'm with the noise complaint division of the MTA...” I trail off, letting them marinate in fear for a moment. I can't keep a straight face as they stare at me in horror.
“Just kidding,” I finally offer them.
Relief washes over the group and they laugh louder than they were stomping. I wander away thinking to myself, "Did I really look like a figure of authority?
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Valentines Day
Sunday, February 15, 2009 | Posted by The Commodore at 11:46 AM 0 comments
Labels: Diary
Apathetic Lesbians

A few more swigs of Jim Beam and a PBR later I notice two women enter who resemble Tegan and Sara. A short Italian man and his Indian companion attempt to make small talk but the duo dismiss them. The two men are commonly dressed and stand out amongst the deep v-neck tee shirts and pointy leather boots the other patrons wear. I wait a few moments to give the illusion that I'm uninterested in the dismissive women before trying my hand at penetrating their sapphic wall.
I approach the bar to order another drink and stand beside the two women that I believe to be a couple. They sip their cocktails without emotion and this perturbs me. Why so serious, my darlings?
“You guys look excited.” I observe, with a sheepish smile.
One simply turns her head to stare out the window and the other wordlessly stares at the apex of my flat top. They tacitly acknowledge one another's exasperation. Disgusted, the lesbians move to gather their belongings and leave having been hit on by three different men within 10 minutes of entering the bar.
I'm not bothered, but the distinct memory of having sex with a girl in Boston who now exclusively dates women flashes in my mind.
What a breed.
From the Diary of an Analog Bachelor by The Commodore
Wednesday, February 4, 2009 | Posted by The Commodore at 6:20 AM 0 comments
Labels: Diary