woke up three minutes early, used the time to jack it to that woman at the café who looks like Marissa Tomei, but Korean. What a find. What a hybrid. Just, just…goddamn. Any rake worth his salt needs to go abroad. The leering’s good in the wild. Every girl you have ever spanked it to is out there, cross-multiplied by every other girl you have ever spanked it to. The permutations coming out of God’s workshop will make your tongue loll out.
Stumbled to work. Sat, fired up the thing, checked my Chrome history for the subway schedule I was looking at yesterday. Realized I can see Liane’s search history. She had my job, my desk, my computer before she went back to South Africa a year ago. Somehow she was still logged into Chrome and her devices were still synced up. Whatever she Googles, I could see. This is what it felt like to find the wreck of the Titanic. I now know this girl better than God.
She is pricing a trip to Bali, she’s looking for cafes in Johannesburg, she bought tickets to see that movie SPY. In South Africa they call movie showtimes “performances.” I don’t know why but I find that adorable. She watches hardly any porn.
Because she likely has zero need for it. I met her once; she was a fox, mulatto with the Afrikaans accent. Just, just…goddamn. So hot you go insane for five seconds and wish you were a Wall Street demon. I’ll pick you up at 8 and we’ll eat at the Paris Grill, I have a table there. I did a drive-by on her Facebook right after she left. Looking at her history, she has never done the same for me. That hurts, Liane. But I get it. When I met her I was at work and I looked like I always do at work, like I just got divorced. Bedhead and a baggy windsail for a shirt. When I met her it was already over. It was over before I knew she was even in the room. A girl sees you for the first time and before she has blinked she has already decided if she’s going to fuck you. If you’re slightly hunched or if your mouth is hanging open, just call it. Go home and get out the lotion.
Who the fuck are you seeing Spy with, Liane. Is he going to Bali with you. Some rugby captain whose father owns a mine or some shit.
Whatever, you know. Things are going well for old Fred. Maybe too well. Over here and you can’t trip without falling into a foreign woman’s tits. How am I ever going to go back home and make a run at something. I’ve been eating straight dessert for a year. American girls could have a woodpecker drilling at the side of their heads and they wouldn’t know it.
But still. Goddammit, Liane. Not even one cursory Facebook search. What am I supposed to do about this. Motherfuck.