Bill and the Whores with No Name
Putting your penis inside someone you don't know is strange. Putting your penis inside anywhere is strange. Even having a penis is little strange, honestly. Kind of silly in a mildly pathetic cyclopian sense.
I was in the good Lord’s unholiest city: New York, New York (insert big band noise) and I met Bill. To be clear, Bill is not the person I put my penis inside of. I don't know the person I put my penis inside of, but she seemed cool.
Bill is an 83 year old man with wine stained teeth and a sort of mildew-y aroma. He's sharp. Looks like shit until he tells you that he is 83 and then you're weirdly impressed and complimentry. Which is, truthfully, weird in its own right. Being impressed that someone has not yet died. Wait, hold up, this guy has been chilling longer than some other guys and he hasn't shot himself - everybody clap.
Bill used to be a social worker. He's a father, too, but I got the impression he doesn't do that anymore. He lived in China for a time, apparently, but I was pretty drunk so I don't remember why.
Bill might be gay, but I'm not sure. He seemed more like one of those old guys who's in love with you because you're not old. You're a fresh breeze and he's just opening the patio door for a few minutes to help the air circulate - or he wants you to put your penis inside him, hard to tell.
Bill is very liberal, which was refreshing to hear from a man born in 1943. Isn't a big fan of Donald. Would've loved to see them arm wrestle.
Chris, the bartender, hates Bill. He thinks he talks too much (he does), but to be fair it is probably easier to deal with once a vacation as opposed to once a night.
At some point in the night, well, morning, really, Bill left.
I wonder where he lives.
I'd bet some boiler room cot “The Fisher King” style, but maybe he's got a brownstone in Brooklyn - hard to tell; New York seems oddly resistant to stratification in the traditional sense. The rich like to act poor and the poor pretend to be rich, which just leaves little old me confused about who I'm supposed to be asking for spare change.
Bill was replaced by two nameless women.
I'm sure they had names, but I must have missed them and I truly didn't care enough to ask again. They were much more adept at flirting than Bill. Bill never mentioned his “black pussy” or asked if this “white boy” has tried some before. If he did, I might just have put my penis inside him.
He didn't, though, so I put my penis inside her instead. Then the sun came up, we exchanged numbers, and she took a train to the Bronx.
Her friend fucked my friend in the hotel bathroom while I watched seagulls hunt for pizza crusts outside. I wondered what Bill thought of seagulls. Do they have those in China?