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Adventure of Harry Bangs

What’s My Line
A Ghost Story

“What words can describe the end of a relationship?”

Like oh my God, she is about to break up with me and she is trying to be poetic. But do I make fun of her? No. I just sit there trying to act nonchalant playing with my French fries and sipping on my water. The thought did occur to me that I might should stand up and run from the restaurant screaming that I am free, free at last.

“You know this is not easy for me. I’ve thought long and hard about it.”

Long and hard. God knows she does love my dick but from all the nagging she did during our entire relationship I would guess that is all she liked about me.

“Dear, sweetheart, I will miss you. But I think it is time we start seeing other people.”

I smile. I lick my lips. I look at my watch. “Well, dear, call me when you are lonely and horny. You know I make a good fuck buddy.”

She smiles. She stands up. She leaves. And so I am left sitting alone. I wonder what I am going to do when I am old and gay, I mean gray. What if this bitch who has just dumped me is my last hope at love? I hate eating alone. I hate sleeping alone. I hate having sex alone.

As I leave the restaurant I consider jumping in front of an automobile but the way my luck is going I’d just get a ticket for jaywalking. I get into a taxicab.

“Where to Mr.?”

“East and 3rd.”

As we start to drive off I see a woman attempting to wave a taxicab down. I tell the driver to stop and pick her up. He does. She has blonde hair, blue eyes, big tits, and a figure to die for. She tells me her boyfriend is a mob boss. I tell her congratulations. Okay, so I’m not witty. I ask her if he has ever killed anyone. She suggest perhaps, maybe he has but if she tells me more she might have to kill me. I explain I have been considering suicide. She laughs.

The woman gets out of the cab at East and 12th. I am alone again. The taxi driver begs to differ. I don’t argue. He stops and picks up another woman. She has red hair, green eyes, and big tits, and a figure that would give a chubby chaser a hard on.

“I can’t believe I get to share my cab with such a nice looking young man. Like God, I usually end up with these fat old women who have nothing better to talk about than the good old days when it was okay for a woman to hate sex. Do you hate sex?”

I smile. I wink. I tell her, “Sex and I are the best of friends. Like just the other day I was telling Sex how much I like being around her. She tells the best jokes.”

She giggles. “I know. Sex is the best. When you are feeling down and blue Sex is always there to cheer you up. But you know, when I am out on the town with Sex she seems to attract the worst men.”

I agree. “And the worst women. One of them dumped me tonight.”

“You got dumped. The girl who dumped you must be a lesbian.”

“Yeah. Seriously. But I think I prefer to think of her as an ugly gay man who can‘t get laid even at an orgy of ogres.”

“So it was a bad breakup. I know how you feel.”

“How is that?”

“My husband left me.”

“I am sorry.”

“It was his heart. The SOB up and died on me.”

“That is awful.”

“You telling me. He weighed 300 pounds. But the medics were able to get his naked corpse off of me without too much trouble.”

I ask, “So how long has it been since you’ve had sex.”

“You mean with another person.”

“Yes.”

“Two years. I haven’t had a cock in my pussy for two years.”

“So, maybe, do you want to come back to my place.”

“Yes. Yes I would.”

So I think how lucky am I. I have great sex with this woman. She can do such great things with her tongue. You know, like not talking during sex. But still I slip into a bad habit and scream out that I’ve already taken the garbage out. Then when it is time for her to leave I discover how lucky I am not. She tells me that she is homeless person. She has no where to go. Like fuck. And thinking back, okay I lied, the sex wasn’t that great.

Not wanting to be mean to this lady who I have just had sex with I let her stay in my house while I go to work. Work. I hate work. Now you might be so nosey as to want to know what I do for a living. Well, for now I am not going to tell you. It is enough that I tell you that I leave a strange woman alone in my house who I have just met while I go to work.

So what do you imagine might happen while I am at work and this woman is left by herself in a strange place with no friends? When I return home from my job I find my door ajar. I scream into my home that electricity does not grow on trees. As I enter my home I am already to pick a fight with my new roommate about trying to heat the whole outdoors. Then I see my couch has been turned over. I notice the broken lamp on the floor next to the fireplace. I hear water running. And I get the most awful feeling in the pit of my stomach. As I go into the bathroom and as I see her body laying on the floor, the running water in the sink is causing me to need to piss in the most awful way. So I turn toward the toilet and unzip my pants. I begin peeing and then I see in the mirror my shower curtain move. I am so scared I could piss in my pants but luckily I am already peeing in the toilet. Suddenly I see the woman’s ghost crawling out of my shower.

She screams, “I am dead. How can I be dead? Where is the light. Where is the fucking light. I want to walk into the light.”

I ask, “So who you killed you.”

“No one. I slipped and fell and hit my head.”

“What about my turned over couch and the broken lamp?”

“I was playing ball with your dog.”

“I don’t have a dog. Are you talking about that ceramic dog next to the fireplace?”“That explains a lot.”

The ghost then fades into thin air. I finish peeing and zip my pants. I then go and call the police to report the accident. Luckily the police realize it was an accident and there are no questions. Thank God, because the inquiry could have ruined my career. Now I know you have been wondering what I do for a living and so now I am going to tell you. See, I am a hit man for the mob. Poor woman I’d forced the meeting with in the taxi who was so proud of being married to the mob, she didn’t know what hit her when I‘d gone to work earlier and I did my job.

The End

Copyright 2007

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