Saturday, June 11, 2011

TALK TO A REAL LIVE SANE SOBER FULLY CLOTHED WOMAN!

Go ahead, call me brilliant. I just realized what this city needs. It’s a service that will vastly improve the lives of many, while providing both entertainment and employ for countless thousands. It’s a damned good thing, too.
I know I would pay for it, and I’m guessing you would also.
And the market-demographic is just sheerly enormous.


TALK TO A REAL LIVE SANE SOBER FULLY CLOTHED WOMAN!


See? Pure genius. There are already places where you can exchange pleasantries with a distracted mal-educated hardly dressed person of the female persuasion, and this being San Francisco, you probably conversed with an insane person not too long ago. Perhaps even a screamingly berserk femme who was convinced that you were channeling for the devil or the Republican National Committee.
Actually, that’s pretty much guaranteed – welcome to San Francisco.
You’ve discussed Kierkegaard and existentialism with someone of indeterminate gender, desperately trying to keep sex out of the picture.
Far too many times.


MISS, YOU CANNOT STAY HERE, NOW PLEASE STOP SLEEPING!


And heck, like me you were probably on a bar stool keeping an anxious eye in the direction of the drunken European blonde, thinking that if she fell towards you, you’d jump out of the way. Yes, nice thighs below those shorts, oowee them’s some eppes juicy bits!
But a young lady who has swilled herself into a near-coma has demonstrated a severe lack of judgment. One which is in all ways indicative of a habitual pattern.
Best not speak to her.
She’s probably irate and irrational even when awake.

So you let the bartender try to convince her - “lady, you can’t stay her, stop sleeping!”
As a resident of this city you have long since learned to avoid truly random conversations. Telling her she’s drooling-drunk might be precisely the spark to set her off. You don’t know. You’ve seen things.
Such a pity good thighs and a good head don’t go hand in hand.


What you really would like is a conversation with a young lady who is sane, completely sober, quite intelligent, and entirely clothed. Tastefully but not provocatively dressed.
One who wears garments that do not advertise a unique or creative “personality”. Because you know that if the uniqueness and creativity are on the outside, the mad gibbering looniness is within. She’s probably a spiritualist from Minnesota, and almost certainly believes in flying saucers, healing crystals, and that singing gentle songs about flowers will cause world peace.

No amount of shapely titty is worth gentle songs about flowers.
World peace, my aunt.
You KNOW this.
As a San Franciscan, you distrust such people. Damned hippies!


TALK TO A REAL LIVE SANE SOBER FULLY CLOTHED WOMAN!


Is that European bint going to fall over? Crap, I can smell the beer and flavoured vodka from this distance! Urgh!
Nice thighs.

There are rational sensible women in this city. But they too are skittish about talking to strangers.
That’s precisely why there should be a business that promises “talk to a real live sane sober fully clothed woman”. Think of it as a valuable social service, one with insurance, security staff, trained supervision, expert guidance, in a well-lit semi-public arena.
Interfacing with a real live sane and sober woman, one who is fully clothed to boot, promotes good mental health. It keeps you tied to reality. Provides you with a sounding board, and valuable feedback.
These are the things that prevent you from going off the deep end.

Or trying to have a conversation with sodden drunk Eurotrash.

Trust me, if you haven’t spoken to a real live sane and sober fully clothed woman recently, you may find yourself in a discussion about spaceships and alternative medicine.
And god forbid, listening to gentle songs about flowers.
That way lies madness, plus unique and creative clothing.

Beware of tie-dye.



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