"Everything in the world is about sex except sex. Sex is about power."
Yeah, I’ve started sleeping with the boy that basically was responsible for my break up. Well, there’s a whole list of other reasons I broke up with Mike. And don’t get me wrong, those are true; but when I say that I was basically cheating on him, I am talking about Travis.
Even with the non-stop sex, Travis and I are going to stay just friends. Well, Travis is in love with me. This is probably the most attractive thing about him. He fawns over me. He picks me flowers every day on his walk to work. Did I mention that he doesn’t have a car because he wrapped a corvette around a tree a year earlier and was consequently gifted a DUI? He skateboards everywhere or walks. Did I mention also that he’s 22 and still in college? And by college I mean a trade school. Did I mention that he is a busser at the restaurant I’ve been working in for 5 months? Did I mention that he is the WORST busser at said restaurant? This is starting to sound bad, huh? It’s only going to get worse, so let’s move on.
The second most attractive thing about Travis is that he has very little responsibilities. He is constantly rambling on about “living in the moment;” and he’s a good salesman for hedonism, too. I’ve totally bought it. The small print on this purchase mentions something about a 6 month forced vacation from reason and productivity. But who reads small print? We smoke a lot of weed together. [side note: Drug users stick together. This is not because we are a ‘different breed of people.’ This is not because ‘sober people suck.’ This is solely because those that smoke weed all day are intimidated by those who can get through their day completely sober. On some pretty-obvious-and-not-at-all-deeper level, it reminds us that we are incapable of doing so. This makes us feel bad about ourselves. I guess in that way, sober people do suck.] Embracing the pothead lifestyle, I’ve started sleeping later and later, and I do very little with my days except spend money at restaurants and play in the sunshine. I’ve stopped washing my hair and started listening to a lot of Creedence Clearwater Revival. It’s the 70s again and I am on top of the world.
For the most part, Travis is terrible in bed. His penis is too small and I’m 4’11” and weigh 90lbs. But more than that, he has no idea what he is doing because he’s never slept with any girl more than once. I’m still not convinced that he’s slept with any girl ever besides me. No one can either confirm or deny that he has. Did I mention that he’s never had a girlfriend? Did I mention that he is 5’1” and has a handlebar mustache? Did I mention that he’s been cutting his own hair for years because he couldn’t afford haircuts? He can afford pot though. Miraculously, we both can. I’ve started cutting my own hair. I’m off track. Back to the sex. Travis can’t cum. He goes soft. His little tiny penis shrivels and gets even tinier. This is also probably because of the weed. This is not the first time this has happened to me. When I was 17 I briefly dated a boy with the same issue: too much pot smoking and therefore too little penile activity. The difference is, when I was 17 I had more self-esteem and left that boy for a more virile adult man after only 2 attempts at sex. I am 26 now and have lost all that naïve self respect. When Travis goes soft, I light a cigarette or a joint and pretend it didn’t happen. We’ll try again later.
Naturally, with all of these great things going for him, I have fallen for him. Seeing him makes me smile. I look forward to our work shifts together. I spend most of my free time with him and we are inseparable. People say we look cute together and we get so much attention when we go out together. He likes to dance. Mike hated to dance. We go to a jazz bar and drink ourselves retarded on a regular basis. We get so much attention everywhere we go. We are stars and we are going to take over the world. I’ve started drinking caffeine again to offset the marijuana. I smoke more cigarettes than I ever have before to keep the high going. I’ve been dressing more and more like a hobo. Travis even calls me that as a term of endearment: “My Little Hobo.” Adorable. I’ve never had so much fun in my entire life. He makes me feel open and powerful and beautiful and creative (which I attribute to being obviously smarter than him). Seriously, though, he is very calm and supportive. He lets me do whatever I want, judgement free. And right now, I want to fuck, drink, smoke pot and get a tan. This is shaping up to be the best summer ever.
