“Happy birthday,” she said, handing me a small, beautiful box tied with a green ribbon. We were in a nice restaurant on the 32nd floor of a skyscraper, having roast beef for dinner as we drank scotch and water. It was my birthday, after all.
“Hey. Do you know what I’m thinking about? Try and guess!”
“Hair clippers?” I asked. Of course, I was just joking with her.
I removed the wrapping paper, unveiling a shiny, ruby-colored box with a movie ticket sized piece of paper inside. Written on it were the words “Pleasure Ticket.”
“You can use it whenever you like!” she said.
Returning home, I opened up the highest drawer on my desk. Inside of it were 78 “pleasure tickets” in a variety of colors, each from 78 different girls. I pulled out the whole thing and added my new ticket, making it 79. A fairly reasonable number.
“Hey. Do you know what I’m thinking about? Try and guess!”
“Hair clippers?” I asked. Of course, I was just joking with her.
I removed the wrapping paper, unveiling a shiny, ruby-colored box with a movie ticket sized piece of paper inside. Written on it were the words “Pleasure Ticket.”
“You can use it whenever you like!” she said.
Returning home, I opened up the highest drawer on my desk. Inside of it were 78 “pleasure tickets” in a variety of colors, each from 78 different girls. I pulled out the whole thing and added my new ticket, making it 79. A fairly reasonable number.
In my backyard I dug a hole with a shovel, burying the 79 “pleasure tickets” that I had packed into an empty can of Grape Drops. Afterwards I pulled out a hose and watered it. I guess I’m just that kind of person.
-m
