A Bachelor’s Guide To Everything
An old friend asked me.
“I don’t get why you just don’t stop all these stupid games, I mean just marry me and we can spend the rest if our lives together. “
Sara was delusional about our relationship more so than I.
It was something and at times it beat nothing.
It was sex to me and love to her.
Cold as it sounds it’s simply the truth.
And Frank didn’t entertain her delusions which would always certainly end with her upset and Frank relieved for a nice vacation from his favorite dwarfs company.
“I would love to come visit you sweetheart but honestly my GPS is broken and I view our relationship kind of like a timeshare.
You know, more a rental that others have the option to buy.”
“Hey, asshole! seriously I’m not going to wait for you forever !”
“And sweetheart I respect that. I mean if you find a guy that’s semi brain dead and not chemically assisted to get stiff on a regular basis. By all means hop on that dick and ride that fucker into the sunset.”
“I cannot believe you are just letting me slip away you conceited prick!”
Sara replied building up to her usual blow up.
Frank simply got up and poured himself a drink .
Holding the bottle up.
“Care for one sweetheart ?”
“No I don’t want a drink you bastard !
Why can’t you just love me? What’s wrong with me ? “
“Well sugar, nothing aside from the fact I do not love you and I never will.
We’re friends and that’s it.”
It was harsh but Frank knew sometimes the truth was always the best route .
“Oh so you fuck all your friends?”
Frank kicked back his drink.
“Well I would but Bernie’s wife would probably get pissed. I mean with Simon already hitting on him every two seconds . Honestly why have a conversation when you can have an orgasim , that’s what I always say.”
“I swear to fucking God ! , why does everything have to be a joke with you.”
Sara, was pissed beyond words as everyone has feeling’s, well minus Frank.
“Sugar , who said I was joking. I mean a relationship between an agent and literary brothers is a special one . We actually all have been thinking of building a commune in the Midwest and maybe becoming modern day beatniks or professional open mic poets .”
Even Sara had to almost laugh at that one .
And as Frank mixed her drink along with his own as he took a seat beside her on the couch.
“Look sugar, I know it hurts but trust me. I’m not the one .”
“Yeah but I’m in love with you so guess I am an idiot .”
“Sara cut the shit !, you’re not in love with me, you’re in love with an idea that can never be me. There’s always someone better. I’m a good time and that’s it, nothing more .”
The conversation continued and eventually like anything else in life it ended with bitter words and in Sara’s case some tears.
And as Frank sat on the deck afterwards, watching the sunset.
His ever faithful four legged drinking buddy finally joined him.
“Hey there you nutless wonder . Glad you finally chose to join the land of the living cause I really didn’t feel like digging a hole today.”
Boozer just looked at Frank and walked on past him and jumped into his chair he kept outside as he cut a fart while in midair.
Then stood there looking at Frank for a treat.
“Wow asshole what you do for an encore go shit the bed?”
Boozer was getting older much like Frank the eternal bachelor’s enjoyed some drinks and what little time they had together.
Listening to the sounds of the waves crash into the shore.
There was a peace in being alone most feared to embrace.
Frank was certainly not most people.
Sometimes alone with your thoughts and old dog and some stiff drinks.
Was the best company a man could ask for.
Well until you got that urge .
But escorts were a simple fix and far cheaper than divorces .
Frank was forever the bachelor it seems.
John Patrick Robbins, is the editor in chief of The Rye Whiskey Review and Black Shamrock Magazine. His work has been published here at Punk Noir Magazine, Fearless Poetry Zine, The Dope Fiend Daily, Piker Press, San Pedro River Review, San Antonio Review ,Romingos Porch and Schlock Magazine.
His work is always unfiltered