Passion's Killing Floor

“So if you don’t mind me asking, what is your profession?” the message popped up on my screen.

As I’d hoped, an awaiting man I was met with when I returned home- Danni finally off my back.

I took a bit to think about my answer to his question. I’d never really done anything but the odd house job here and there. My parents left me the money and as long as I had it there wasn’t a lot of need to have a job.

“I suppose I don’t have one, but I do work for some people who pay. Just odd things people don’t feel like doing and they call me up. My parents left the money so I’ve never needed a stable job. I bet I sounds so void of work ethic right now, a spoiled brat,” I typed back.

I pulled another cookie from the package and dunked it in milk while I waited for his response. His message popped up and I shoved the cookie in my mouth ad wiped my hands clean on the side of the couch; I’m such a clean person.

“Hardly void at all. I suppose if it weren’t for music, I’d still be working in me daddy’s sex shop. Or at least running it. Music is really the only career I’ve had since I’ve been around twenty.”

I nearly choked on my cookie when I read his message.

“You worked in a sex shop?!”

A laughing smiley appeared on the screen, soon followed by “You act so surprised, darling. Nearly everyone on this continent has a relation with sex; they have it, think about it, want it, work for it, sing about it, read it, write it, I think you get the drift. Most of us can’t even keep our clothes on.”

It made me laugh, so hard milk -and I’m pretty sure a bit of my cookie as well- came out of my nose.

“Touché. It just caught me off guard, while I don’t work for it, sing about it, or write it, hell I don’t even have it -at least not any time recently- I do think about it and read it and watch it… as I’m sure a majority of single people do.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever sang about it as directly as others, minus this one time, but I’ve still sang about it. Though our first real album was very sexual, but we’ve changed a bit. It’s like Love Metal, if you know what I mean. Our younger years were spent wasted and sex crased, bluntly, we were driven by our dicks. Though, some of us still are.”

“Alas, who doesn’t spend their younger years driven by their… sexual organs. Haha. I was a total whore when I was younger. Total whore. Anyway you still aren’t going to let on any indication of your band, are you?”

“I’ll let the whore comment slide -smiley- and no I’m not. You’ll learn in time, patience is a virtue, darling. -obvious change in subject- what are you doing right this very moment? Honestly…”

“Well, I’m sitting h ere on my manky couch in the dark, with my pyjamas on, eating Oreo cookies and dipping them in milk, whilst using my couch as a napkin before I type. A b it sad, if you ask me.”

“Ha! Nice, I’m sitting in a Starbucks, by myself, well besides the waitress who comes to ask me if I’m finished every ten seconds, drinking coffee.”

“I’m sure she’s delighted you’re there. Coffee sounds wonderful but right now a fag sounds even more amasing.. Nicotine has been my addiction ever since I stopped smoking pot.”

“I go through a pack in a minute- my addiction to keep me from drinking so much. My band mates they stopped pot a few years back and they play chess to occupy themselves.”

“Lord, I would not be able to play such a boring game every time I craved a joint. I’d bored myself to death quicker than the drug would kill me.”

A string of laughing smiles popped up before his reply. “It does take patience, so I see why you don’t like it- being you have none patience.” He joked (on cue for the ‘jk’ that popped up next).

“Har, har, har. Real comedian we have here! I’d like to inform you that I have eaten my way through a whole package of Oreos- though, rest assured, I am not a fat girl. It’ll pass through in a couple of hours.”

“Lovely… I could eat the world and it wouldn’t even cause a bulge in my stomach.”

“High metabolism. Oh my mum warned me it would catch up to me one day and I’d regret eating so much. But it never did, now my ass is being beaten by fat people…”

“True, true. I’m kind of… petite, I guess. For the longest time when we started our band, people said I was a female transitioning to male. I don’t think I looked that girlish. Puberty just hadn’t quite run it’s full course yet. Besides my voice. On stage you’d see this lanky being come out, then he’s got a voice deeper than hell come from him.”

“Ha, bet that was fun as a teenager. I was the hippy of my class, pot and metal and world peace. Got me head in the loo a few times for it. I’m forever grateful of the bully who chose the bowl or I would have had some nasty shit on my face… literally.”

“Oh, gross. I can say that’s never happened to me before.”

“Hope it stays that way. You’re better off without your head being drenched by the water people piss in.”

“I would imagine so, darling. I hate to cut our conversation short, but I must get home. I promise to be back when I arrive home, though. You have my word.”

“I shall be waiting, Mr. Rocker.”

“Well, then I’ll be seeing you. Miss. Impatient.” A winking smiley appeared before his windows status changed to busy.

I got up and picked up my cookie package and glass, tossing the bag in the garbage and the cup in the sink. Ville still had me curious about his band, but I stood patient for him to tell me. Id’ be better off that way. I headed into the bathroom to do my business quickly, then came back, setting on my couch. I grabbed my box of fags off the table along with a lighter. Shaking one out, I set it between my lips and lit it, inhaling the smoke. It made me wonder if Ville was doing the same thing on his way home.

I’d found myself with a quickly developing infatuation with the man and I have yet to see his face or hear his voice. Though , I suppose it’s better that way, so not to build a relationship based on looks. I’d have to remember to thank Danni for this, next time I see her.

My computer dinged some time later, with a message from Ville. I sent a reply and found myself talking to him all night long…