. . . . I’m all about bad decisions tonight. After a life time of making the right ones, I realize now that the right decisions are bad decisions and, consequently, bad decisions are why I’m here now. Sometimes a bad decision is the only way out of a bad place. Well, probably not, but, when in Rome. . .
It didn’t start out this way. I was just sitting at a bar, minding my own business. I only wanted a drink. . and then another. . and then another. I wanted to be left alone. I didn’t want to help out some woman in distress and I definitely didn’t want to pay the price for it.
When she walked in though. . .It was all over. She sat down next to me and when I tried to ignore her she asked me for a light. After hesitating for just a moment, I lit up her cigarette. . or her fuse. . whatever. It was all over at that point.
I’ve known a lot of women in my time; and I’ve screwed it up with every single one. Every Single One. At least that’s what they think. Who knows. You meet a woman with a story. She wants to get away from some bad guy that’s giving her grief. You do what you can to help. You get beat up a few times. You do what needs to be done and, a month later, she’s right back with the guy giving her grief and, for your troubles, you end up being the bad guy. It’s a racket. But, hey, they pay well and you gotta eat, right?
This one told me her story. I won’t go into detail, but it was typical. We stepped outside for privacy and she shoved me against a wall and kissed me deep. It was a reckless, impulsive, crazy kiss. I thought we’d be there forever… But she was just making sure she had me hooked. Good job babe. . .dont forget the line and sinker.
So I got her out of her jam, at considerable cost to my sanity and reputation. For my troubles, she just turned around and went right back… And she had the nerve to call me a year later and ask for help getting out again. Like I’m that stupid.
Anyway, I’m meeting her at that old joint on the South Side of town again. Wish me luck. I’ve got some bad decisions to make.