Paging Dr. Crusoe to Room 7
Thursday afternoons were a perfect day to get drunk. This was precisely the case for Hammel, who, by some miraculous twist of fate, found his first day off in a good three weeks.
And three weeks was such a long, long time to go without getting drunk.
And so, with the deftness of a teenager, he called up his buddies. Of course, with his luck, only one showed-- but that wasn’t the point! The point was that the one that did show was going to get drunk off his a** and have a good time!
Because--damnit--Hammel needed to have a good time once in a while too!
After a few beers, the buzz was starting up (That glorious buzz!) They were feeling silly now, though not outrageously out of their senses. Jokes seemed just that much funnier, and the phrase “I love you, man” might have slipped out a little easier, but no one was ready to get naked (yet)!
And then, the unrestrained complaints began, as they always did, from the redhead.
“Look, man! I know it’s part of being grown up and all--” He kicked his feet out, leaning more comfortably on his third-hand couch, “But I hate this! Being an adult shouldn’t mean working every damn day for scraps! I mean, look at this dump!”
His head fell back against the couch, his eyes closed tight as the man groaned. “This isn’t it, dude! This just isn’t it! I need somethin’ more! I need money-- for one!”
“But there’s something else! I dunno-- I think I’m just lonely or somethin‘.”
This sent his friend into a wild torrent of laughter, which resulted in a hard punch from Hammel.
“Ow--Shi-- Dude. Not cool.” After a reproachful glare, his friend continued, “Look, you don’t have time to deal with all that crap. Just get a hooker.”
Hammel pulled himself from the couch, reaching into his poorly stocked minifridge and coming back with an incredulous look. Once the idea had finally set in, he found himself… Well? He wasn’t quite sure-- Morally he was against prostitution… But he was pretty darn pent up. Even just the smell of a girl made him lonely.
“Nah, dude. That’s not cool.” Hammel scoffed, sitting in his desk chair and popping open the cap to his beer, “I couldn’t even afford it! Weren’t you listening before?”
“No-- dude. Just no.” His friend was serious business now, removing himself from the couch and quickly making his way to the computer, “Look, see? I’ve done it before. All it takes is a chick with an empty wallet and no self esteem, and--” A series of clicks indicated that the boy was navigating the web, “Well, just look! This chi-- No way! Look, dude. This one is free! ‘Your Wildest Dreams’ is says!”
He found himself looking-- if only because he didn’t believe that girls were really that easy! Didn’t they have any sh-- oh, who was he kidding? He was probably just as bad.
“Nooooooooooo, thank you.” He pushed himself from the desk, shaking his head in disapproval, “I don’t even want to know what comes extra with that package-- I’m itchy enough as it is, dude.”
“Psh-- Wimp.” Another series of clicks, which Hammel dutifully ignored as his friends attempt at finding a ‘reputable’ hooker, should those exist. He peeked back, only to find the words “Message Sent” flashed before his eyes.
“W-W-- DUDE!!! WHAT DID YOU DO!?”
“I sent her a message. That kind of a girl is like a rite of passage, man.”
“I do not neeeeeeeeeeed a ‘rite of passage’!! Send another one! Say I’m not interested!”
“No way, man! You so need this!” His friend was backing off now, clearly able to sense Hammel’s rage at the situation, “Soooo~ I’m just gunna get lost, and let you have fun, now!”
“Whatever!” The man was at his computer now, desperately searching for the email that he could contact to cancel, “Get out of my sight! Make yerself sparce! I gotta figure out how to undo all this bullshit!”
And three weeks was such a long, long time to go without getting drunk.
And so, with the deftness of a teenager, he called up his buddies. Of course, with his luck, only one showed-- but that wasn’t the point! The point was that the one that did show was going to get drunk off his a** and have a good time!
Because--damnit--Hammel needed to have a good time once in a while too!
After a few beers, the buzz was starting up (That glorious buzz!) They were feeling silly now, though not outrageously out of their senses. Jokes seemed just that much funnier, and the phrase “I love you, man” might have slipped out a little easier, but no one was ready to get naked (yet)!
And then, the unrestrained complaints began, as they always did, from the redhead.
“Look, man! I know it’s part of being grown up and all--” He kicked his feet out, leaning more comfortably on his third-hand couch, “But I hate this! Being an adult shouldn’t mean working every damn day for scraps! I mean, look at this dump!”
His head fell back against the couch, his eyes closed tight as the man groaned. “This isn’t it, dude! This just isn’t it! I need somethin’ more! I need money-- for one!”
“But there’s something else! I dunno-- I think I’m just lonely or somethin‘.”
This sent his friend into a wild torrent of laughter, which resulted in a hard punch from Hammel.
“Ow--Shi-- Dude. Not cool.” After a reproachful glare, his friend continued, “Look, you don’t have time to deal with all that crap. Just get a hooker.”
Hammel pulled himself from the couch, reaching into his poorly stocked minifridge and coming back with an incredulous look. Once the idea had finally set in, he found himself… Well? He wasn’t quite sure-- Morally he was against prostitution… But he was pretty darn pent up. Even just the smell of a girl made him lonely.
“Nah, dude. That’s not cool.” Hammel scoffed, sitting in his desk chair and popping open the cap to his beer, “I couldn’t even afford it! Weren’t you listening before?”
“No-- dude. Just no.” His friend was serious business now, removing himself from the couch and quickly making his way to the computer, “Look, see? I’ve done it before. All it takes is a chick with an empty wallet and no self esteem, and--” A series of clicks indicated that the boy was navigating the web, “Well, just look! This chi-- No way! Look, dude. This one is free! ‘Your Wildest Dreams’ is says!”
He found himself looking-- if only because he didn’t believe that girls were really that easy! Didn’t they have any sh-- oh, who was he kidding? He was probably just as bad.
“Nooooooooooo, thank you.” He pushed himself from the desk, shaking his head in disapproval, “I don’t even want to know what comes extra with that package-- I’m itchy enough as it is, dude.”
“Psh-- Wimp.” Another series of clicks, which Hammel dutifully ignored as his friends attempt at finding a ‘reputable’ hooker, should those exist. He peeked back, only to find the words “Message Sent” flashed before his eyes.
“W-W-- DUDE!!! WHAT DID YOU DO!?”
“I sent her a message. That kind of a girl is like a rite of passage, man.”
“I do not neeeeeeeeeeed a ‘rite of passage’!! Send another one! Say I’m not interested!”
“No way, man! You so need this!” His friend was backing off now, clearly able to sense Hammel’s rage at the situation, “Soooo~ I’m just gunna get lost, and let you have fun, now!”
“Whatever!” The man was at his computer now, desperately searching for the email that he could contact to cancel, “Get out of my sight! Make yerself sparce! I gotta figure out how to undo all this bullshit!”
