Asshole

​     It's not that I enjoy being an asshole, it's just who I am. I am an asshole. The asshole-ery that is me just rolls off the tip of my tongue so naturally. It's like my asshole-ery is always just sitting there, waiting, and then when somebody says or does something just absolutely and undeniably idiotic, and somebody is always doing something idiotic, my tongue strikes at the opportunity. And then it joyfully slithers back into my mouth, and leaves me to explain why I just said just an asshole-ery thing. 
     There was this one I was on a date with this gorgeous creation of God. Her long, brunette hair dropped low, like my eyes always would, down to her rumptious ass. She had these large, green eyes that made the Northern Lights envious. I think God knew He would have to give her beautiful eyes to get my eyes from looking down at her glorious chest. Sorry, like I said, I'm kind of an asshole. But it's not my fault. Fuck, where was I even going with this?...Oh, right. So it was our third date, maybe it was our fourth...that part of the story isn't important. So, we were on this date, I took her out to her favorite restaurant. It was someplace called Natural And Fresh, I had never been there so I didn't know what to expect. I should have been able to fucking guess from the name that it was going to be horrible, but I'm also an idiot at times, so I didn't think about it.
     Anyway, we walk into this restaurant and got sat in a booth towards the back. I pick up the menu to look at my options, again this is the first time I have been to this particular establishment, and I see in big, bold letters, "WE ARE PROUD TO SAY THAT EVERYTHING ON OUR MENU IS ORGANIC AND VEGAN." Organic and fucking vegan?? Are you kidding me. I reread this horrific statement over and over and over again. This is going to be a bad night, I think to myself. I need to do something immediately. 
     "I need to go to the bathroom," I awkwardly, and apparently loudly, blurt out. Half of the restaurant turn to stare at me and my date, the guys eyes linger a bit longer than the girls once they see my dates very large and beautiful...eyes. 
     "Is everything okay?" My date, let's just called her Margaret. Actually that's a horrible fucking name, let's call her Daisy. Yeah. So, anyway, that's what Daisy said back to me, in a voice of concern.
     "Oh, yeah, everything is fine. I don't know why I yelled... I saw this menu written in it's big, bold letters, and thought maybe we all had to talk like that since we're here." 
      Daisy let's out a laugh and a snort at that one, guess she bought that excuse. Also, I'm fucking hilarious. I stand up and walk quickly to the bathroom. I throw the door open and check the stalls to see if anybody is in the bathroom, I see one stall is taken. So I patiently sit there and wait for him to leave. When he is still in there two minutes later, I knock loudly on his door and yell, "Get the fuck out! This place is on fire! The fire alarm is broken, so it is my job to get everyb-" I didn't even need to finish my dumb ass story, he threw the stall door open so hard that it nearly flew off of it's hinges and ran out of the bathroom with his pants still wrapped around his ankles. I locked the door behind him and walked quickly to the mirror.
      "Listen, you little asshole tongue, you better not fuck my date up tonight. I really like this girl."
      "Of course you like this girl, have you seen her fucking tits?"
      "That's not the reason I like her, you piece of shit, I like her for her personality. She is so sweet and so pure. The hope and love she has for this world continues to- okay fine, yes, I like her tits. So what? Just don't say anything that's going to ruin my date with her. Okay?"
      "Fuck you."
      "No, fuck you!"
      "Fuck you!"
      There is a knock on the bathroom door and the man from earlier yells, "There's no fire out here! Can I get back in?"
      "One second!" I turn back to the mirror and say softly, "Please, don't fuck this up for me." I go and open the door back up, for some reason his pants are still around his ankle. He sees me staring at his pants.
      "I figured I was just gonna take them off again, so I didn't bother pulling them back up." I don't respond, instead I just walk past him and back to the table where Daisy sits. Goddamn, she is beautiful. I sit back down and she looks up to me with a smile. I pick up the menu and flip it open, instantly the anger comes back to me once I reread, "WE ARE PROUD TO SAY THAT EVERYTHING ON OUR MENU IS ORGANIC AND VEGAN."
     I feel my tongue getting slimy. Oh, shit. Before I could do anything to stop it, I feel my tongue vomit the next couple of sentences into the air. I try to catch them before they reach Daisy, but to no avail. 
     "This restaurant fucking sucks. Vegan this, vegan that. What kind of person says this is their favorite fucking restaurant, I mean really? It's all vegan bullshit." I look up to see Daisy's eyes filling with anger, beyond her I see the rest of the restaurant has turned and stared at us once more. Shit.
     I think it goes without saying that that was our last date. In fact, the date ended right then and there. Well, actually my asshole-ery was encored by her yelling at me for a solid five minutes. It was terrifying. Calling me a dick, an asshole, scum, and other things that I have tried to block out of my memory. But, the point of that story was that my asshole-ery tongue is out of my control. And it affects my life as much, if not more, than it affects your precious lives. You guys hear me be an asshole one time, maybe twice, then you have the option to leave forever and never speak to me again. But I don't have that choice. I have to live with this fucking thing for the rest of my life.