True Story

In this city, it’s women everywhere.  Heaven, right?  Ha.  Hell, if you’re a short schlubby guy like me.   Not only am I short and schlubby and look like I have no money, but I got meat on my bones.  I don’t even mean fat, I mean muscle: I have what I thought was a nice body, but girls here want some string-bean hipster thing.  They want a vintage coat, itty-bitty jeans, scarf, and scruff on a string, marionetted down the street.  The skinnier the better: they’d dispense with the guy inside all together - to get closer to the platonic outfit.  They don’t want a real man.  Then the mayor cracks down on prostitution?  Does he want me to die a virgin?  No luck, that’s my lot.  But then, ok, FINALLY, I’m walking down the street and up ahead I see this girl and you know what? She’s SMILING at me.  AT LAST!  I can’t believe it, but two steps later it turns out she’s just got down’s syndrome.  Fuck.  True story.