It was almost midnight and I cannot sleep. I don’t normally like to go out on a Monday night but this time, being stuck in an Upper West Side studio apartment isn’t an option. The building that I live in is located on the corner of West 87th Street and Amsterdam Avenue. It maybe a decent neighborhood here in Manhattan but sometimes I can’t help to notice the “fuck ups” of society going into my neighborhood asking residents for money and just turning the area into shit. I have nothing against bums and homeless people.. I just wish that they would make some form of effort to turn their lives around. I know it’s not easy, but in this time that we live in, nothing is easy anymore.. You gotta go out there and make things happen for yourself. Good things no longer come to those who wait.

I stepped out of my apartment and headed to the Dead Poet Bar on Amsterdam Avenue. This is one of my favorite watering holes, most liquor drinks that they have are named after the late luminaries of the literary world and as a poet myself, I immediately liked this bar. I went in there and ordered my usual drink, the dead poet’s cocktail, it’s a mix of eight different liquors and fruit juice served in a glass mug. As I started to sip on my drink, I noticed a pretty young woman, sitting beside me, smelling her glass of red wine.

“What’s wrong with your wine?” I asked.
“Nothing, it’s just doesn’t smell like it’s from California” she replied.
“I’m from California, let me have a sip and I could tell”

She gladly handed over her drink and I took a sip.

“Well?” She asked me again.
“It’s from California, but from a low-grade winery” I replied back.
“Are you a Sommelier?
“No, I learned more about wine when I first moved here in New York I worked at a wine cellar in West Village. That’s how I learned more about wines. Kind of ironic that I never learned that in California.”

She was looking at me in a seductive but subtle way. Then I finally decided to ask her name whether it’s fake or real.

“So what’s your name?”
“It’s Isabelle, and yours?”
“Lorenzo”
“Is that your real name?”

I grinned a little bit.

“Yeah, why?”
“It just sounds so made up”
“Well, so does Isabella”
“It’s Isabelle! Double L with an E”
“Hey, I was close. Cheers!”
“Cheers!”

I raised my drink and cheered with Isabelle. After a few drinks, we finally became comfortable with each other.

“Are you gay?” Isabelle asked.
“Sure, I’m so gay that I wanna fuck you at the bathroom of this bar!” I said.

Isabelle didn’t laugh or smile at me this time. She was looking straight into my eyes. She almost scared the shit out of me and I didn’t know what the fuck to say. Then I started to think on what should I say next. I realize that I should probably say sorry or something.

“I’m sorry, did I say-”
“Fuck me in the bathroom!” She bluntly said. Isabelle then stood up from her seat and reached out underneath her skirt and took off her underwear and gave it to me.

“Keep that in your pocket, I will need it back after we do it” She said.

I politely kept her Victoria’s Secret underwear in my pocket. Isabelle then proceeded to the bathroom where I slowly followed her. She went inside the tiny bathroom first and then I joined her. I closed and locked the door. She started taking off my belt and pants and went down on me. She never lost her head even when she’s giving head! When she realized that I was hard, she smiled, took a Trojan condom out from her purse and gave it to me.

“Don’t be silly, put a rubber on your willy!” She said.
“I always do!” I replied with a smile up to my ears.

So I wrapped myself with it and fucked her. She was a good lay I have to say. We slowly walked out of the bar and headed for the 79th Street subway station on Broadway. As Isabelle and I are on our way to the subway, she decided to have some coffee. So we went to French Roast, a 24-hour coffee shop for insomniacs. We came in there and sat down on one of their tiny tables.

“Thanks for coming here to have coffee with me” She said.
“Thanks for making me cum” I replied.

She then laughed at me and I laughed back at her.

“You know, I’m beginning to think that I like you”
“Please stop bullshitting me”
“No, I’m serious! Why? Am I not attractive enough for you?”
“I didn’t say that. I wouldn’t be sitting here if I didn’t feel a connection”
“That’s good to know”
“Are you trying to make sure that there aren’t any strings attached?”
“Pretty much, I’m just trying to avoid this kind of thing as much as I could”
“I like how you think! But at the same time, I think you’re scared of something”
“Oh really? What am I afraid of?”

I looked deeply into her eyes.

“I think you’re an extremely hurt person, someone took you for granted and you almost died. You are scared of getting close to anyone because you’re scared that they will fuck you up.”
“Wow, you see a lot Lorenzo. Do you know what I saw about you earlier?”
“What is it?” I nervously asked.

“I think you’re no different than me. You’re as damaged as I am. Like attracts like.”
“I actually have the ability to love someone”

Isabelle laughed like a hyena and I was thinking to myself how I wanna smack the shit out of her.

“Oh come on! Everytime you try to live like a normal person, you always end up shitting all over it! Why don’t you just stop trying to be like someone else and become more of yourself instead?!”
“I’m wondering which guy here in New York hasn’t fucked you yet!”
“All of them already did.”
“I love the fact that you’re a slut.”

She blew me and kiss and smiled. I smiled back.

The waitress finally took our orders. Isabelle had a hazelnut cream coffee while I had a green tea. We finished our teas and stepped out of the coffee shop.

“I really had a good time with you” I said.
“So do I, and in order not to spoil this memory, let’s end it right here” She replied.
“Excuse me?”
“Lorenzo, you’re great guy and I did enjoy your company. We both had our good times, and let’s end it right here”.
“No, I really enjoyed talking to you and-”
“And you think that this is going somewhere?!”
“Why not? We could be fuck buddies you know?! No strings attached..”
“Oh listen to yourself, I’m not the only girl here in Manhattan. Trust me, this coming weekend, you’ll meet someone new and you won’t even remember me. And dating is boring!”

Isabelle kissed me full on the lips.

“Ciao!” She said.

Just like that, she hailed a cab and disappeared like a comet. Sometimes I wonder what would’ve happened if she and I went out for some kind of date or something. But on the back of my head, we were just having some teenage fun! Turns out that one night fucks aren’t so bad after all.. As long as you’re aware of the rules of your own game.