Yeah, that's what Sadie said…

He was cute even though he had sort of a frantic demeanor, as if he had perpetually failed to remember where he’d put his keys.

So when he came over to our table, the one where the three of us ladies sat in the dimly-lit corner of the not-crowded-enough bar, we obliged, unable to predict that we would encounter the ensuing conversation ~

What’s up? he nodded upward as he spoke. Ugh. We should have known to say goodbye right then.

But no. We answered him. Nothing. What’s up with you? the three of us responded in tandem.

Nothing. I’m here with my dad, he pointed towards the pool table where an attractive man stood holding a cue.

Oh really, he’s your dad? No way! He’s pretty cute! And his dad certainly was. How old is he? Gen asked. He’s fifty, the dude responded.

Is he single? Gen asked inquisitively. No, he’s with that woman next to him. Why? the dude wanted to know.

Oh, I was just thinking maybe I could set him up with my friend, but never mind, Gen offered, bored with where the conversation was going.

But now my interest was piqued. Who? What friend? I wanted to know. Janet, she announced. Oooooh, Janet, yeah! I smiled broadly at the thought of our lovely friend Janet with the hot dad over at the pool table.

The dude wanted to know why I was smiling. Because Janet is fun! I told him. Now his interest piqued, Fun how? he asked. Well, fun meaning…. she likes sex.

And do you know what he said to this? He said…

Oh…

And then he continued.

So she’s a whore?!

wtf?wtf?wtf?wtf?wtf?wtf?wtf?wtf?wtf?wtf?wtf?wtf?wtf?wtf?wtf?wtf?wtf?wtf?wtf?wtf?wtf?

I swallowed hard and managed to resist the urge to punch this little fucker in the throat.

Um. No. No. No, I spit. She is most definitely not a whore. She simply likes sex. Do you like sex, little man? I asked him.

Yes I do, he said, sniffing upward towards the ceiling.

So, does this enjoyment of sex, does that make you a whore? I peered at him through squinted eyes, my friends leaned into the table, prepared to pounce.

Well… I’m actually married. He seemed to be pleased with this answer.

Oh, how fantastic for you, I noted. Does your wife leave you a payment on the bedside table after you’ve fucked her, then?

Always, he said.

Goodbye, we said… nodding upward.

Goodbye.