Short Story / Happy Hour: Tea With Ms. Cock A Doodle Do, The Uncommital Urban, and The Skater Dude From Shopgirl
”. . . How Do You Tell A Man, You Want To Suck His COCK ?
I Mean, How Do You Say To A Man:
SIR, I Want You To Stand In Front Of Me, Drop Your Knickers, And Allow Me to Suck Your COCK? “
Now, dear reader, before I lose you with the blunt vulgarity of the above, picture with me a woman whose fiery words are as anxious as her dress:
A short cut yellow, vintage getup with equally loud sequend stiletto shoes.
think: Liza Minelli hit by a sunshine disco truck.
Her throaty British accent slurred by a drink in one hand and a never ending cigarette in the other, Ms. Cock-A-Doodle- Do, is a silly European attempt at a “Sex and the City” persona: a single thirty something female, with the misplaced fashion sense of Carrie Bradshaw and the shameless libido of Samantha Jones.
Her target for the night: the nubile erogenous zone of a 24 year old doe eyed boy named Ben Naders.
“Oh God, I feel like a Pedophile… am I a Pedophile ?”
The British Cock a Doodle directs the question to the three of us who shake our heads, ‘no’ and then stare blankly at the perfectly plastered pedophile.
STEVE Sandgate, who is also a closet pedophile of flighty 20 year old “aspiring models”, quickly allows himself to be enveloped in conversation by two other thirty-ish females.
Cute, but nothing extraordinary, the two women form a pecking circle around Steve, who in spite of being 33 and head of his own internet company, has the demure of a 16 year old boy looking at boobs for the first time.
Casually puffing on his cigarette, eyes roaming around the room, a flirtatious smirk overcoming his countenance everytime he spots a shapely pair of legs, Steve suffers from phallically facillitated ADD.
The women however don’t seem to care that Steve’s lackadaisical demeanor translates to a both a blatent disinterest in them and an inability to commit to anyone whose nipples have fought a good 3 decade battle with gravity.
As far as the pecking hens are concerned:
he’s male; they’re horny.
he’s got disposible income; they’ve got ticking biological clocks.
if either can get laid or pregnant by this dude, it would be considered a good night.
A silly smile slides over Steve’s face as he breaks his attention away from the pecking hens and comments to the British Cock a Doodle that he usually never dates women who are younger than 28, and that she shouldn’t either.
At hearing this, I gag on my drink and he quickly clarifies how, that’s if you don’t count his last girlfriend, who is twenty….. oh, and of course, the one before that who was 19….
REALIZING that even the British Cock A Doodle is shooting him a skeptical look, Steve goes on to give a fabulously bumbling soliloquy about how he’d prefer to date women his age, BUT he’s usually “FORCED” to date younger women because they’re much more “CARE FREE”...more inclined to “HAVE FUN”... AND are not trying to “FORCE” him to do DIRTY things like “MONOGAMY,” “MARRIAGE,” or god forbid, a “SERIOUS RELATIONSHIP.”
FOR social courtesy’s sake, I give Steve a sympathetic boo hoo nod whilst wondering at what age I’ll be desperate enough to have to throw myself at a man like him in hopes of marriage.
I gauge my decline to happen around 35, when my inexplicable strand of white pubic hair will have undoubtedly spread to encompass the whole shebang.
AT this point the pecking hens have said their adieu’s, and Steve, the British Cock-a-Doodle, and a guy who can only be described as the young dude who played Claire Dane’s Love interest in the Steve Martin flick, Shopgirl, are jibber jabbering.
The dude, herein refered to as “Shopgirl Dude” is describing his standard of “datable” females:
This is him verbatum:
”.... man, like you know i like ladies who smell good, look good and wear like Victoria Secret underwear…
like when i hook up with a girl and her underwear is mismatched, tattered and has holes and shit in it, i’m like uh ok. b/c it’s like our first time hooking up….
but after that i’m like, hey lady you know, step up it up a little and get some nice Victoria Secret or you know Fredericks of Hollywood, maybe even some La Senza and shit…. “
Shopgirl Dude goes on to “like” relay his “like” dilemna of having to “like” choose amongst all the “you know,” pretty, smart, and funny girls who are “you know” throwing themselves at “like” him…
Let me reitterate: he looks like the skater guy from shop girl. He’s wearing a t-shirt and denim shorts that cut right below his knee; his dark hair is parted in the middle and falls under his ears. His method of introduction is making a shaka sign and saying “hey zilla zilla” right before he grabs his crotch.
HE’S NO CASANOVA.
Steve chimes in that he too finds it hard to be with just one girl because New York has so many attractive females who do interesting things. So as a matter of circumstance, Steve has reasonably taken it upon himself to just DO them all.
The British Cock a Doodle and I debate the chances of the Doe eyed Ben Naders leaving his fair haired girlfriend for a seasoned British Cock a Do.
”....Gawd… Have you ever just connected with a person…Just connected so deeply that you just have to jump his Cock till it’s raw?”
The Cock A Doodle is once again flailing her arms as she says this; the bambied Ben Nader completely unaware of the oral fixation he has invoked in this woman by simply giving her his happy faced business card.
NIGHT draws to an end and we all try to sober up over club soda.
Steve Sandgate is once again smooching it up with a lady who has found an excuse to rub moisturizer on his hands;
the Shop Girl Dude and the British Cock A Doodle are bonding over their goofed up Nerve.com dating experiences;
your sleepy narrator begins to say goodnight.
Half way out the door, I’m approached by a white man with an afro.
He tells me that while he likes reading my snarky website (CollegeWit.com), he doesn’t think I’m “authentic” because I don’t “party” enough.
I assume that the ethnically skewed man is refering to my refusal of the crack he’s clearly smoking, and just smile him off in the same manner that I had done with the kids who used to peddel their adderall pills behind the tennis courts in highschool.
As far as I’m concerned:
I’m drunk on the desperate cries of the Cock a Doodle.
High on Steve Sandgate’s urban whoremongering.
And fucked up with confusion over how the Shopgirl dude could be anything but a virgin.
On this night, beer, cocaine, and a random hookup couldn’t compare to these Happy hour sensations.
You need to log in to urbis or create an urbis account to review this writing.
Reviews
Sort Reviews by Newest | Oldest | Highest Quality | Lowest Quality | Newest Comments |
This 261 word review has not been unlocked.
This 49 word review has not been unlocked.
This 85 word review has not been unlocked.
Absolutely love it. Nothing bad to say at all.
- add/view comments (0)
Very tiresome people—you capture the milieu well, but I wonder how much longer folks will be fascinated with such shallow, immature, stunted personalities.
What I really hope is that such people don’t actually exist, but are a mere creation of capitalist print and video media.
In either case, why contribute to it—unless you’re going to be a lot more scathing about how idiotic they are.
funny(i’m not sure if this is supposed to be funny or a scathing social commentary, but i was never good at picking up on subtlety). my favorite is the white dude with an afro. i could almost see them as chickens. and to answer the question posed in the beginning: you just tell him.
This is a very refreshing piece of writing. The style is clean and unique. You’ve managed to create a scene with a minimlaist touch that is wonderful.
I was engrossed by this story from the very beginning. I have a pet peeve about pop-culture references in almost any genre…but they didn’t bother me here for some reason.
This is one of the few times that I have no real advice on how to make it better. The pice flows, the sentence structure is great. I was a little confused by the entire opening being capitalized, and I’m not sure if capitalizing COCK is necessary. Its about as crude a word as there is and in my opinion doesn’t need help in its blatancy.
But all in all a marvelous and fresh story.
This has potential. You are clearly a writer with a distinct edge but this piece didn’t work too much for me. It felt a little too chaotic, too frantic.
The beginning was excellent, but it kind of fell apart a little as the story progressed. I am unsure what it was about-if indeed it was about anything.
‘like when i hook up with a girl and her underwear is mismatched, tattered and has holes and shit in it, i’m like uh ok. b/c it’s like our first time hooking up….’
Do not use b/c when you write. Or lol or omg or any of these rubbish language shortcuts that have evolved through internet culture.
Just needs some work is all.
Not bad – I like your style, most of what goes on here is short, snappy and keenly observed. Noticed a couple of spelling mistakes/typo’s but something tells me you probably don’t really care so I won’t eat up your credits quoting them all and pointing them out.
If you want me to – let me know.
One part I will quote is this:
‘Liza Minelli hit by a sunshine disco truck’only because it was clever and I loved it.
I really like the word ‘demure’. (sp. verbatim) This writing, like a lot of your others, seemed to throw some cats off. It’s a journal to me, but I love Jack Kerouac and I don’t care about catagories even less than I do resumes. The opening cracked me up. Your character description is very cynical and judgemental, but it is also the only way that I feel like I’m going to get to know the people. Always a good read. You should write a self help satire. Peace!
Showing 1 - 10 of 16
Next →
Review item
Add to faves
GENERAL
REVIEW QUEUE
Ratings & Rankings
