What an artist does

What an artist does

“Chief, are you alright?” Carin, my favorite bartender, could see the sorrow permeating from the genuine expression on my face; the very sorrow I was trying to drown in Pabst Blue Ribbon beer. It was another Friday night at The Dungeon, my favorite bar.

Her eyes showed concern like an old friend. I just give her a fake smile and a thumbs up. I wasn’t going to give a woman my burdens like I used to back in my wbAFC chode days. I turned to Blacktop, “Listen, man. I’m going to make everything right.” It was 3 AM and I was drunk, but not as drunk as I was aiming for just yet.

“What are you going to make right?” Blacktop asks. I tell him, “Everything.” I turn to Vain and manage to sputter out whatever was going through my head at the time, “My parents say that they’re proud of me, but I don’t fucking believe them. I sure as hell wouldn’t be proud of me if I were them. But mark my words, man. One day I’m going to make them really proud of me.”

The laundry list of my problems that I had in my head were washed away by alcohol as the night progressed… or at least that’s what was supposed to happen. In reality every sip made me fall deeper into my crappy little hole, but I was starting to like it. I went over to the jukebox to play songs like “Evidence” and “Just a Car Crash Away” by Marilyn Manson to see exactly how far down I could explore my crappy dark little hole without dying. Self-destruction is one of my greatest virtues anyway. Why? It breeds creation.

I was able to dwell deep enough in my drunken sorrows that I came to a point where I truly stopped caring about everything in the world. The only thing that truly existed was the present moment, and that was the only thing that actually mattered. There’s definitely something blissful and enlightening in realization. There wasn’t a smile on my face just yet, though.

And then a woman came and sat next to me at the bar. HBVampire is another Dungeon patron that I see a lot. Her mere feminine presence allowed me to switch to positivity/optimism mode. It’s a pretty handy trick that every PUA should get under their belt. It’s all about developing a habit. We somehow eventually got into a conversation about seeing the beauty in everything. I find out that she just broke up with her girlfriend. She also had not been with a man in over three years. Being drunk, I felt that I could just sense the strongest desire to be fucked hard in her soul. I decided to give her something special that night.

I gave SOIs and went direct in as smooth of a way as I could be when I’m drunk as fuck, which actually isn’t too bad considering that I’ve had a lot of practice to calibrate my game pretty well under almost any circumstance. After some direct flirting and kino, we frankly made a verbal agreement to go home with each other that night. I tell my friends that I won’t be catching a cab with them that night. Later on HBVampire and I left the bar and went to her house.

I was way too drunk to remember all the details, but I do know this: In the light of an opportunity to give and share the pleasure of a sexual experience – like how a musician gives his audience the pleasure of feeling all that he has felt through his music – I was able to forget about the selfish concerns of mine that I was trying to drink away. That is what an artist does: he gives. He is able to separate himself from his own fears, anxieties, sorrows, baggage, etc. and just give the best he’s got. HBVampire desired to be loved that night, as every woman does at all times. Since the type of artist I am just happens to be the type that gives love and pleasure, I was able to orchestrate a magnificent impromptu symphony.

I woke up the next morning and realized that I had no idea where the fuck in New Orleans I was. HBVampire’s house was pretty far from where I lived. I didn’t even remember exactly how I got there in the first place since I was so drunk. Oh well, at least I didn’t get whiskey dick.

Fortunately I was able to call one of my friends and get a ride back home!

Share the love:
Facebook Twitter Pinterest Plusone Linkedin Digg Reddit Stumbleupon Tumblr Email


  1. reminds me of a Brazilian girl I met last Sunday night. two people at the wrong place at the right time, crossing paths. when it happens, it is truly something else.

Speak Your Mind