If anything I guess you could call the bulk of my existence pretty routine.
I was a researcher for a large law firm on a particularly busy street.
Researcher. Sounds important right?
I looked up phone numbers for people we were trying to get in contact with for one reason or another. They didn't want to be contacted. As you can imagine, it pretty much sucked.
The only good thing about this job was that the hours were completely fixed. In at 7:00, out at 4:00. I could be home, showered, changed, and at the nearest bar by 5:30 without breaking a sweat.
Source: Pixabay.com
There was just one hitch in that plan: No bars around here. There was, however, a run down bowling alley called The Purple Horseshoe.
The beers they served at the abandoned food court were so cheap that I wondered if they somehow got them for free. Maybe they were stealing them from the local convenience store.
Reclining in my favorite black plastic chair, the only one not missing the back part, I often found myself lost in the sounds and sights of white trashdom.
Pins dropped as ladies screamed at full volume, strange obscenities being directed at no one in particular, purple, red, and orange lights scatter across the tiny white table top from the nearby laser tag rink.
It was terrible, but it was mine.
I wasn't expecting a guest as the nearby table leg screeched back revealing a red haired beauty. Thrifty was the word that came to my mind. As in, only shopped at the thrift store by the look of her ragged jeans and two dollar t-shirt.
"You look like you know how to have a good time." she joked as she popped her gum loudly.
"I'm Suzette."
I briefly thought about ignoring her but instead ordered her a strawberry daiquiri.
Humans tend to get into a rut.
Work, home, TV, shower, bed.
It sucks but that's how life goes.
These were the thoughts that ran through my mind as I laid on top of my newly found companion thrusting away in the darkness.
Who knew you could pick up chicks at the bowling alley?
Well I fell into a routine again. This one was a lot more fun than my previous one though.
Shower, work, bowling alley, sex, food, drop her off, bed.
Not bad for a guy in his thirties. I never asked Suzette her age, because I didn't really want to know. I was thinking 22. Somewhere around there.
I wasn't a fan of change. Coins I mean. I paid with a credit card anytime I could simply because it was much more convenient than reaching into my wallet and pulling out a handful of dirty money.
Nevertheless, at least a couple of times a week I came home with a handful of change that I tossed this way or that way, or whatever way it happened to land. There was money on my shelves, behind my bed, in the closet, in the cupboard, and even just randomly all over the shag carpeting in this second floor apartment.
I never really bothered to count any of it. I knew they had these coin machines at the supermarket where you could dump your change and get a percentage back, but I just never felt like putting in the effort to pick any of it up.
It was midnight on a particularly good Thursday as I sat on the plush beige leather carpet, resting my feet on the Eastern style coffee table. I think it was Oak? Maybe Mahogany.
In my left hand was a Guinness Extra Stout, my right was gripping Suzette's tight little stomach. She giggled like a schoolgirl.
At that point I really thought I had it made. Little did I know that I would not be seeing Suzette again after this evening.
I guess you could say I'm not a very attentive guy. If I was I would have noticed all the change gradually disappearing from around my apartment. Disappearing from the closet, disappearing from the cupboards, disappearing from random places all over the floor.
I also would have noticed much of my clothing being taken. She must have been putting on some of my shirts underneath her clothes without me noticing it somehow. Either that or packing it into the black bag she always brought with her.
Suzette and I had sexual relations about ten times. I tried to calculate how much change was in my apartment and I came up with a number in excess of $500. She also took about $1,000 worth of clothing and other electronic items.
Fortunately I did not catch any diseases. $1,500 for ten rides in the sack.
Was it worth it?
As sad as it may seem, to a guy like me with no visible prospects.... I'd say yes.
