I want to tell her REJECTED and then spit in her face and laugh. Not a loogie or anything, just clear spit that is easily wiped away, like an oops or a ‘my bad’. Like an emphatic form of punctuation. I want to write back, THIS IS A PIECE OF SHIT. But I can’t cuz it’s not and I won’t cuz I am nice to a fault. Maybe if there were more beers in my stomach, more than the many that are in there right now making it feel brick full. Maybe if I felt prettier. Maybe if I knew I could ever have a chance. I say maybe a lot but not as much as I say, I WISH and I WANT and KILL ME NOW. I have a goblet, see? It’s gold and encrusted with shiny shit, see? Pimp cup shit, see? Wanna know what it’s filled with? Unicorn fucking tears! No shit. You can’t get that shit at Wal Mart. Do you know what I do with my goblet and my unicorn tears? I piss and shit all over it. I know, right? I’m like, fuck this shit. And it’s not even funny. I’m looking around every corner for the next best party. And the funny part is, I don’t even really swear. Gumdrops and gloryholes. That’s how I roll. And if you let me watch you fuck her. If you let me. If I can be there. If I can sit on the bed maybe. If I can play with myself. If you will let me kiss things every so often. Dry or wet or moist things. Would that be cool? Like, would you let that happen? Can you hook a brother up? What about a sister? What about me? I’m too old to be fucked. Throw an old lady a bone. I’ll take a dust mop to my vagina. Pretty it up for the occasion. Maybe you could pick a girl who is over 30 just to make me feel better. Make her eyes dark like mine. Maybe then you might confuse us when the lights go out.