The social dance

Let us have a one-sided conversation with each other. I’d much prefer it to be that way.

I’m going to do this all in perforated text, so it looks all cool and matrixy.

*slides a butt-plug 30 feet up his intestines, and let’s the pretentiousness settle. The plebeian then goes on to take a dainty little sip from his mocca-frappa-decaf-latté before adjusting his thick-rimmed glasses, and sneering at a guy eating a bagel next to him because he’s inside a caffé so that everyone can see that he’s writing on his iMacProOSX.*


Sometimes you'll find yourself in a room full of people, and they're all talking to each other, split into little groups. 

You see a nervous guy, slightly overweight, and filled to the brim with estrogen, paying homage to a dude that doesn't seem to be interested in him. You hear the estrogen fueled wreck guffaw at a joke that wasn't worth more than a nose-laugh, before the aforementioned dude sips his beer and tries to find a socially acceptable reason to leave the conversation.

You'll see a girl casually looking at her phone, while a guy tries desperately to entertain her, but he's too afraid to lose balance on the tight-rope to do anything impressive.

Next up, you see one guy entertaining a crowd of five people. One girl's eyes are glazed over with lust, as she smiles and ignores the inanity produced by her entertainer's mouth-hole. Talking about another time you drank beer, while drinking beer, can't be that entertaining. At least this entertainer knows how to do a trick or two on the tight rope.

Then you spot your savior for the evening. She's doing exactly the same thing you are; nothing.

When you talk her, you don't adhere to what others would consider right and wrong. There are no taboos. You talk about things that others would shy away from mentioning, but they secretly long to admit to someone.

You make a joke, and when she doesn't find it funny, she doesn't pretend to laugh. But she doesn't express discontent either. This makes you want her more. 

You'll peel back her lies to expose the truth, and it doesn't matter to her that it hurts. The pain draws her closer to you.

You're on the same wavelength. The same frequency. The meaning of each sentence is amplified. Where others need a paragraph, you only need a glance at her.


When all is said, and everyone’s done, you’re still there, enjoying each other’s company, while the rest of those losers go home and suck a chode.



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