To Be a Mushroom

I walked into the bookstore to pick up a few things and catch up with my friend Jack who was working . While I had Jack check to see if they had a particular book in stock, we started talking:

So@24: Have you heard from Leo? He didn't come back last night.
Jack: I thought he went with you to that wrap party?
So@24: Well, I went home, he went to his boss's concert.
Jack: Oh that's right. He went with Succubus.*
So@24: No. Way. Don't say he went slept with the Succubus.
Jack: I can't confirm or deny these claims. That's something you'll have to take up with ol' Leo yourself.

A conversation much later with Leo resulted in my worst expectations coming true. Motherfucker got too drunk and couldn't keep his springy snake in that fake can of peanuts.

So@24: What the fuck are you thinking, man? Really? Succubus. Really??
Leo: What can I say? I got drunk. And it was the 3 week pinch.

As I shook my head in disgust, I got to thinking...

It's not really his fault. There was a point in time where I would have compromised all my integrity and slept with someone I loathed just because I knew her chest lovlies would produce an epic motorboat.

There was a time when I suffered from the worse case of dry eyes ever, because I was staring at the ceiling, gripping the shit out of my pillow BEGGING for someone other than myself to get my rocks off.

But I realized it's almost been two years since anything remotely close has happened.

And I really could give two shits.

Okay that's a bit hasty. I mean, I'm not a complete idiot... I want it, and when it happens (God, please let it happen again, sometime) it would be like the clouds parted, a heavenly beam shone down on me and I was lifted if only a few inches off the ground. Angels would play their harps. Naked. Sexy angels. Sexy, busty, angels.

But I don't have that same incessant craving like I once did. I'm not some maniac that thinks I might actually cease to exist like one of the victims on Unsolved Mysteries if I don't get mine.

It's like a smoker trying to describe what it's like to a non-smoker what it's like to need that puff of a cigarette. I simply have no frame of reference to reflect back on. It's just been too long.

When you've been used to consistent... "access" for a steady four years, and your supply line suddenly gets cut... you panic. You panic as if there was a sudden zombie invasion.

But when you're single and it's just been too long; it suddenly doesn't become a priority. You're willing to hold out for someone who is attractive AND isn't a complete soul, sucking, demon. Maybe it's nature's way of making sure that single people like myself aren't taking their own lives. It ensures the survival of a species.

I've become the mushroom.

That asexual mushroom.






* Succubus is Leo's ex-girlfriend. And I don't have a lot of secret fantasies where I want to set someone on fire and when they beg for me to put them out I wouldn't even urinate on them, but she's definitely at the top of the list. She sucks. Trust me.