It all started out as a pretty standard evening. “Pretty standard evening” meaning that I was drinking bourbon at a bar and hating pretty much everyone. It’s a lifestyle.
Somehow someone looked at me in my bourbon stupor and thought “Wow, this guy fisting a double bourbon and ginger ale in one hand, and chain smoking cigarettes in the other is an ideal mate that I must talk to”. He was fairly attractive, a doctor, and most importantly from out of town, so he quickly became Dr. Tonight.
The unfortunate part about Dr. Tonight was everything to do with the next morning. My weekend diet of 711 taquitos, American Spirit cigarettes, and well bourbon does not equip me for cheery mornings. In all honesty, I’m probably best described as a fire breathing haggard troll with a mild learning disability on weekend mornings. I am not the kind of person you want to “get to know” via pillow talk on the morning after drunken coitus.
Still, Dr. Tonight decided that he needed to learn more about the troll that he had picked up from under the bridge and taken to his hotel room. Do you have any siblings? When did you come out to your family? What was it like growing up in the mountains? How long have you had your dog? How long have you OH MY GOD SHUT THE F*CK UP!! The only thing keeping me in place to withstand the barrage of questions was a mild-to-crippling hangover that I’m pretty sure I can collect Social Security Disability for.
After tersely answering his questioning for about 15 minutes, I had finally had enough. “Can you shut the fuck up so I can go back to sleep?” He thought I was joking. “Your voice is the sound of twinks and axes being thrown around in a cement mixer.” What about this is funny to him? He begins telling me about his rekindled familial relationships in a post-out world, and I can tell this is the kind of story that takes three therapy sessions to get out, so I reached over and scribbled a message on the notepad on the bedside table and handed it to him.
“PLEASE STOP FUCKING TALKING”.
Oddly, I was asked to leave after that. Yes, I’m still surprised that I’m single.