A fat lady was practicing swordplay at the park. I had stopped to smoke a cigarette. I don’t smoke at home or in my car.
A fat man joined her. They looked like drum majors, or strange samurai. I watched them until I finished smoking. Then I left.
Later on I was in Chinatown, smoking and drinking at a bar in Mei Ling Way. After six or seven drinks, I went for a massage. It was only ten o’clock. For fifty dollars, a skinny Thai chick jerked me off. Because of the alcohol, it took me awhile, but I came good.
I went to another bar.
The fat chick was there, but not the guy.
I asked her if she wanted a drink and she said no. I didn’t argue.
When she said no, I knew it was no. I was disappointed, dejected even, but I did not argue -- even when I saw her fat sword-playing friend walk in the door as I was walking out.
***
I was alone at the Korean bar, disconnected from the taxi dancing and the buying of drinks when she walked in.
She sat down next to me, and, this time, she let me buy her a drink.
“What do you want to talk about?” she asked.
“Deconstruction,” I said.
“There’s nothing outside the text,” she said.
The bar lights were red and orange.
She took her top off. She was not wearing a bra. Her tits were huge. I kissed both her nipples. She stroked my hair.
She told me she’d never waxed or shaved her pussy.
I thought other people were staring at us, but they weren’t.
Last call came quickly.
I thought her undressing meant something. She thought it meant something else.
When I came back from the men’s room, she was gone.
She weighed two hundred pounds, maybe more. Her swordplay had been incredible. It was forever in my brain.
One of the Korean girls came by. I bought a fifth of Glenfiddich and she stayed. The waitress brought water to go with the whiskey.
The lights were still orange and red.
***
I drive by the park everyday. I stop there. I smoke two or three cigarettes, so I can stay there longer. I never see the fat girl or the fat guy again.
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