“Right there.”
“Yes, right there.”
“That’s unbelievable.”
“Yes, it can be at times.”
“Do you have a real job?” she says.
“No, I’m unemployed.”
“That sucks.”
“What do you do in your spare time?”
“Raise my kids.”
“Is that fun?” I say.
“No, it sucks.”
“How old are they?”
“Not old enough.”
“Do you beat your kids?”
“All the time.”
“That’s horrible for them.”
“They don’t care, they go right back to playing after I do it.”
“Oh.”
“Do you do coke?” she says.
“No.”
“That sucks.”
“Why?”
“Because I really want some.”
“What kind of mother are you?”
“A bad one.”
“I had a bad mother, kids never get over that shit,” I say.
“I don’t care, I’m not them,” she says.
“You’re right, you aren’t them.”
“I’m me, and I’m a stripper. I’m twenty-six years old. I’ve been a stripper since I was eighteen. I’ve done nothing with my life except get pregnant. You think I want to be me?”
“I wouldn’t want to be you.”
“I’ve never done anything all my life, I don’t paint, write, anything creative. I’ve never tried to be anything. I’ve never wanted to be anything but drunk. I’m doomed.”
“It must be tough to be doomed.”
“It ain’t easy.”
There are a lot of doomed people.
They can’t escape themselves.
I’m not the one to save them.
It’s each person versus the universe.
Most lose badly.
I stare at her pretty face.
And wish there was some way I could save it from the madness.
But I can’t.
I can only save myself.
I’m not Jesus.
So I just let her be.
She gets up and goes over to Jimmy.
She dances for Jimmy.
Jimmy is very happy.
He loves redheads.
I sit there in my sadness.
The ugly girl comes over and asks me for a dance.
I say no.
She walks away.
I order another beer.
I drink it fast, trying to get drunk.
China goes over and dances for the other old guy.
He puts his hands on her ass and rubs her bare butt cheeks.
I’m jealous.
I think about fucking China for a little bit.
Jimmy is still getting dances from the redhead.
I sit alone.
There’s a war.
And I’m sitting in a strip joint.
I’m impatiently waiting for China.
All I want is a dance.
Then I can go to the bar and have a good time.
China finally comes over.
“Would you like a dance?” she says.
“Yes,” I say.
She begins her dance.
I love her body touching mine.
I caress her butt the whole time.
My boner slowly rises.
She does the motions robotically.
I don’t care, I want a boner.
She jabs her butt into my penis repeatedly.
My penis is at full length.
I love every second of it.
The song ends.
I ask her for another one.
She repeats the process.
My hard-on remains.
While she dances for me.
I forget everything.
All my suffering is gone.
I have a total moment of peace.
Tranquility.
Serenity.
Harmony.
The dance is over and I’m left blue-balled.
I give her ten dollars and she goes on her way.
I look over at Jimmy.
“I love being human,” I say.
“Yeah, it’s great.”
“Let’s get drunk.”
“Okay.”
We get the bartender to bring over shots.
We suck them down.
We sit smiling at each other.
We don’t care about a damn thing in the world.
We order more beers.
“Remember September Eleventh?” I say.
“Yeah.”
“I woke up and saw the towers destroyed on television.”
“That’s quite a thing to wake up to.”
“No shit.”
“I got drunk that day.”
“I only remember the morning.”
“I only remember the night,” Jimmy says.
“I went to school that day. It was like chaos on campus. I couldn’t believe it, America was attacked.”
“I spent the night at the bar, I got so drunk. I remember pissing in the urinal, crying for America.”
“I cried that night too, I couldn’t help it, I was scared,” I say.
“You knew after that day, America would be changing.”
“America has turned into an Arab-killing monster.”
“I didn’t want to be in America anymore after that day. I wanted to leave the country, but I never did, I stayed right here. Fighting the American war.”
“Someday America will fall like Rome.”
“America is Rome.”
“Bush is Caligula,” I say.
“I feel bad for those young kids fighting in this war. They don’t know why they’re there. They don’t have a clue what’s going on. It’s not their fault they’re not intelligent enough to not take orders.”
“But that’s who they are, they’re people who take orders.”
“I guess you’re right.”
“I’m happy that I’m in a strip joint at this moment. There’s no better place to be for the beginning of a war.”
“Yeah, it was a good idea to come here,” Jimmy says.
“I’m not happy to be alive at this moment. There’s something disagreeable about being American and human at this moment.”
“I feel really discontent. Like there’s something I should be doing. Like taking part in an anti-war protest or being over there in Iraq killing people. I don’t know which one, but I feel like I should be doing something instead of getting drunk in a strip joint. But this is all I can do to support my country.”
“Maybe we should sing ‘The Star-Spangled Banner.’”
“Okay, let’s do it.”
“No, fuck it.”
“Okay.”
“Maybe we should pray.”
“Okay, let’s try it.”
“How does one pray?” I say.
“Don’t you have to believe in God to pray?”
“I don’t think so.”
“No, I’m pretty sure you do.”
“Oh,” I say.
“Well, what should we do?”
“Let’s get more lap dances for the troops.”
“That’s a great idea.”
We sit there frowning.
The redhead and China come back over.
We get more dances.
We both get hard-ons again.
The girls walk away.
We sit there rotting.
As we get older we are slowly learning.
That we can never control our environment.
That we are powerless.
That no matter how hard we try.
Nothing will ever get accomplished.
But we’re like all humans, and we keep on trying.
It’s compulsive.
It’s human to be human.
We are like all artists and we think that if we create the perfect piece of art, that suffering will stop, that the human war will end.
But it won’t.
The human war is ceaseless.
As long as there are humans.
There will be war.
We don’t get along.
That’s why we drink.
Because we can’t stand other humans.
Alcohol makes people tolerable.
Or very intolerable.
For violent drunks.
I think I’m going to spend the next couple of weeks drunk watching war coverage.
I’m going to sit drunk.
Watching the false reports.
And bullshit.
My friends will tell me I’m stupid for watching it.