Dedicated to one or two women who maybe liked me.. years ago. and inimitable… Philip K. Dick.

For those of you who skipped their women’s studies classes, first-wave feminism got women the vote; second-wave got them employed and divorced; third-wave is busy making them porn stars. More or less – Kathleen Parker

Someone once told me that I was good enough looking, that if I were just nice to girls, I could probably get laid pretty often. I don’t think I ever actually tried doing it that way.

These are the phases that you go through, I suppose. You’re young. You’re surrounded by people. You’re anxious. and Annoyed. You drink. You’re alone. You’re afraid of dying alone. I think eventually you figure out… alone might be kind of nice. Because you’re so goddamn tired of being nice to people. Would anyone ever really love the real you? Doubtful… Someone wise once said.. what you really want doesn’t actually exist in reality. Now you go and think about that one…

Lucky for me, I was the only one at that fucked up party who actually figured out her costume – Pris. And you don’t dress like that.. unless you want some. Am I right or am I Right?

She wasn’t perfect.. but you know what, she was pretty close. The only question now is, could I actually leave behind this fucking self-pity I had become so addicted to. Senior year. I think I really was doing these calculations somewhere in the back of my mind. Just imagine. If I don’t get laid THIS year.. then shit. I could actually keep feeling sorry for myself FOREVER. I mean look, I didn’t even get any pussy in college. What are they going to say to that? This is America, and there ain’t a worse punishment imaginable.. Look at him. He didn’t even get any pussy in college. Right?

So what’s the plan going to be here? We close. We start talking about our parents.. and the future perhaps… I hope that when I actually have to see these other parents, they’ll hate me enough that I don’t have to feel too bad about the inevitable breakup. Ideally, I can get enough sex out of this and be done with her by Christmas.

So you live in this house? (She jolts me out of the daydream)

Uh.. no, Jerry does. Let me talk to a couple people first, then we’ll get going.

I never said I’m going home with you! I was just wondering. I think the girls and I have other plans.

Whatever. Give her space.

A few drinks later she does wander over to the couch, and again starts chatting.

So you said you don’t live far, is that right?

I like your type, I say…

Which is?

You’re the type who’ll have a lot of regrettable sex because you’re afraid you can’t get the guy you really want to be with.

It took a few seconds for her to start laughing.

She came back with the usual, I guess that’s what college is for, isn’t it?

You wanna watch Blade Runner with me or no?

We do indeed end up at my place pretty soon that night. I never even have to meet the parents. She found some other inebriate between Thanksgiving and Christmas. I guess it’d be worse if she were perfect.