Plenty of Fish, with Sharks.

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January 20th 2014  |  0  |  Category: Fiction , Romantic Love , Satire , Tragedy , True Stories  |  Author: David Isidoro  |  2628 views

Plenty of fish, with Sharks

After two and a half years, it’s over. Never saw the end coming or maybe I just chose not to. Life gets hazy. Be at work at 7am, don’t be late, and restrain yourself from committing suicide at your dead end job. Pick up groceries at 5pm; make dinner for 7pm. Fuck, if you’re lucky; 9pm, if not, pants off at the computer by 10pm. Midnight, regret and the resounding question floating in your mind. Why the fuck am I in a relationship? Blame it on routine, blame it on life if it makes you any feel better, but when it comes down to it, the only person responsible for the terrible things that may come in your life lay inside the reflection in the mirror.
What frightens me the most is the fact that single life (for me) is like being stranded on a raft made of shitty bamboo and broken dreams. To make things worse I’m cast out into the vast dark ocean that is the dating pool. Scared. Self-conscious. Alone. People like me don’t fair or thrive in these conditions. I’m no shark, but a guppy or a remora fish, desperate for some sort of connection or attachment. Aren’t we all a little dependent at some point in our adult lives?
So what now? Try some self-deprecating social dating site. Loiter at a local dive bar in your Sunday’s best and smile at the girl in the red dress. Ask friends for anybody who is as desperate for the momentary blimp of affection in the form of a one night stand. Being socially awkward and not the best guy in the room have its disadvantages. Maybe if all else fails in the ruthless dating world, I can find solace in Christ’s caring hands. Meet a nice Christian girl, have some kids, put on a fake smile and sing the church songs like a good whore should. That does sound like the viable option, but I fear I would just spontaneously combust upon setting foot in such a holy place.
I’m young. At least I have that going for me, only if I wasn’t so neurotic. She always said I worried too much. STDs. That’s my worry. Everyday scientists seem to discover some sort of new virus or bacteria that threaten the very existence of man. To make things worse most of them are contracted during the most intimate and amazing experiences humans have. Ironic isn’t it? It’s scary being single. I believe when two human beings commit to each other it is something so magical that supersedes any life goal. At least I did before I met Lacy Mackentire.
It was a mutual break-up. We were at the point in the relationship where it was too soon for marriage and too early for common-law partnership. I gathered my things and parted ways with the little knick-knacks we accumulated over the years. The useless trinkets from Paris, the tarnished bibs from the time we won an all you can eat contest. Dust collects on the lovey-dovey photos with pressured kisses and strained hugs still sit untouched in my barren living space. All the little things are what really take a toll on a grieving man’s heart. Life moves on I suppose. Plenty of fish in the sea, as they say. What about sharks? You know those ravenous, fierce animals that desecrate their fishy prey with their sharp, powerful jaws and starving appetites.
Sharks. There is such a fantastical element surrounding these beautiful animals. We’ve all heard the stories and the fears spoken from people who have never even seen one in real life. We are a society built from fear instilment and cautionary tales of such a vicious creatures that lurk the depths of the sea. I find myself wondering: where are the sharks in my dating ocean? Do they glide effortless underneath my flimsy bamboo raft as I look for tuna or do they smell my flesh from afar and investigate? If there were to be some personification of a shark in the dating world, it would be Lacy.
Three days after the break up, I needed a much needed drink. Straying from the common ground that is host to the parasitic young, hipster generation, I found myself entering a lounge. Crossing into the threshold of the bar, I was reminded of an aquarium. There was an awe factor to the large, dimly light room. Like when you see a plethora of fish swim about over top of you as you are cocooned inside a ton of protective glass. The scene itself also brought me back to those familiar sensations and thoughts. There were lethargic and slow patrons sipping their scotches, like sea turtles floating about in an encased water tank. There was a group of tall, skinny men in pressed suits following each other about the bar, like a school sardines evading a predator. When I sat at the bar I thought of the oddly similar traits of this environment as I ordered my first, second and third drink.
As the hour hand crept slower and slower towards the three, I looked about the lounge with the wavy haze from the whiskey I had, and felt myself become part of the big tank. The dark, murky blue tank with the odd viewing slots became my home. I looked to the nervous sardines and envied their shiny and slim, agile demeanor. I longed for the relaxed turtles and carefree nature as they glided through life’s rigid currents. I saw myself as a lone salmon who ventured a little too far from the river, just waiting to be snatched up. That’s when I met Lacy.
“Who are you talking to?” Lacy Asked.
“Sorry, rationalizing out loud again, it’s been one of those days.” I said as I looked over.
Lacy had hair as dark as a Great White Shark’s piercing gaze. A smile so beautiful, but surrounded with a hint of menace.
“Need an ear? It might be better than talking to a glass.” She said with a quick flash of her eager smile.

“I’ll warn you, I’m not one for small talk, but I’ll try.” I said as I tried to muster the courage to speak to this amazingly stunning being beside me.
“Recently single, and no longer have faith in relationships. I work too much and I’m floating through life trying to find my nirvana out there on some golden beach with a never ending supply of whiskey.” After I said this, there was a quick twitch of her cute, almost innocent face. The way a shark’s nostrils flare excitedly at the first scent of blood.
“Divorced once. Enjoy the company of younger men and find my nirvana in them. And I’m not a fan of small talk either.” She said.
“That’s very forward, Miss…” I asked with a confident smile.
“Lacy Mackentire, but you can call me Lacy.”
I was the helpless baby seal who had been practising how to swim for the first time, and sharp fins floated around me. Is this the experience people strive for out here in the depths of single life? Bobbing around, being yourself in an environment and hope to catch something or in my case, to be hooked in.
There was something about this woman that excited the senses and my fears all at the same time. Like the first drip of adrenaline when it hits your nervous system: Fear and the urge for momentum. As the night played on, and drinks were drunk, we played cat and mouse. Never nailing the nail on the head of what we were actually trying to get across. We both knew what was in store, but it’s always considered too forward by starting a conversation with “Wanna fuck?” Is romance dead or are we all getting lazy?
The night had its pre-winter chill and rain drizzled down onto the streets as we walked under sheltering verandas. The moon was out in full swing. Bright, luminescent, large, overbearing, some might call it the perfect setting for a night swim amongst the beasts that swim in dark water.
There was something between us. I believe there is something magical about the spark in the eye. Not everyone will like you or your company, but for the ones that do, smile and stand erect. Despite the monogamous construct I have built for my life, I still believe in love at first lustful sight. The banter between us wasn’t small talk, it was foreplay. The benefits of an older woman. My verbal prowess was my yin to her yang.
“Life is too short.” She said after taking a long sip of her dirty martini with, not one, but three olives. Peace, Love, and Harmony.
“I couldn’t agree more,” I said as swirled my whiskey inside a thick glass, “I don’t want to live with regrets. Better to have lived an adventure than to have heard it through a closed door.”
“Words to live by, honey.” She said as she raised her slender, but elegant, hand for a drink.
“I love a good view,” I said, “something that catches my eye and I feel compelled to just take a step back, and take it all in. Have you been to Europe?”
We talked about our ventures off in foreign lands and the wonderful sights you just can’t get inside a concrete jungle, One Love. Like many people do, we agreed on the beauty of the burning lights miles and miles away off in the abyss of space. Despite the marvel of thousands of burning lights in the night sky we both also savored the moon’s presence in the dark sky. That’s when I was invited up to see her view from a penthouse suite.
The city lights down below struggle to shine in the darkness up high, making the moon’s glow shine across the residential towers nearby. Making the view that much more surreal, was the slowly stirring dark sea off in the distance. I wondered how many great whites lurked in the depths, stalking prey. I wondered what its prey would feel upon being swooped into the ferocious shark’s mouth. Fear initially, but I feel once they accepted their fate they would feel at peace.
“What do you think?” She asked while pouring Russian vodka, from the bitter-cold Siberian region, into a short glass.
“It’s beautiful.” I said as she moved closer to me by the window.
“Can you put a price on beauty?” She asked while dancing her fingers up and down my back.
“Never.” I said.
As we both gazed out into night to the steady beat of some electro lounge music, I feel at peace, but curious of the storm approaching. I felt like I was out in the middle of the ocean, wading as the dark clouds sparkled to life with contradicting forces known as lighting. Chill, rocky water floating around me was like the adrenaline slivering on my spine. Just when I thought I couldn’t get any more euphoric, she kissed me with her sweet but secretly vicious lips. It all seemed to have happened so quickly. Oh that poor baby seal, I share your surprise but not your untimely demise.
Eyes burn, head hurts, flaccid tired old cock between my legs. The morning light makes my head want to erupt and unfortunately ruin the Egyptian cotton; Lacy had taste and sensuality. Sore and feeling like seven shades of shit, I look over at the shark who had bedded me. Lacy was different and I’m no ageist. She captivated me but also had me on the edge of my seat. The feeling you get when five feet deep in water. You look down and you see darkness, no exit. Above you have the glimmer of hope in the sloshing waves, but you’re far from the relief of a fresh air. With sun’s rays piercing through the water’s edge you see the stream line body and its massive power. Such wonder had filled my soul it seemed and revitalized me. The fear restarted my internal workings and I came to realize, I should enjoy life’s hiccups.
So as I step onto my reinforced bamboo raft, I set myself adrift in the big old blue that is the dating world.


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