Passion's Killing Floor

As I had hoped, when I arrived home from dinner with Danni, I had a new message waiting for me on this dating site. I don’t think I’ve responded to anything faster in my life. And since that moment, I’ve been online chatting with him -Danni finally off my back.

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

I took a bit to think about my answer to his question. I’d never really done anything but the odd household job here and there. My parents were fairly wealthy, and I suppose if you asked anyone else, they’d say I was spoiled -and I was- catered to my entire life and didn’t have to depend on my skills to earn myself money. I had never needed a stable job. My parents left me the money and as long as I had it, there wasn’t a whole 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 that people don’t feel like doing and they call me up to do it. My parents left me the money, so I’ve never needed to have a job. I bet I sound so void of work ethic right now, spoilt brat,” I typed back.

I pulled another cookie from the package and dunked it in the glass of milk on the side table as I waited for his response. His message popped up and I quickly put the cookie in my mouth, wiping my hand clean on the side of the couch; I’m such a clean person.

“Hardly void at all. It takes skill to be a maid. ;) I suppose if it weren’t for music, I’d still be working in my daddy’s sex shop. Or at least running it. Music is the only real career I’ve had since I’ve been around fifteen.”

I nearly choked on my cookie as I read his message, having to force the baked batter down my throat, with a little pain on the way down.

“You worked in a sex shop?!”

A laughing smiley icon 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 catch my 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 cookie- came out of my nose.

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

“I don’t think I’ve ever sang about it as directly as some 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 crazed, bluntly, we were driven by our dicks. Though, some of us still are.”

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

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

“Well, honestly, I’m sitting here 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 bit said if you ask me.”

“I wasn’t asking you. Ha! I’m sitting in a Starbucks, by myself, besides the waitress who comes to ask me if I’m finished every ten seconds, drinking coffee.”

“I’m sure she’s delighted your there. Coffee sounds wonderful but right now a fag sounds even more amazing. Nicotine has been my addiction ever since I had my first smoke. And it keeps me from smoking pot, which has become increasingly expensive in the area in the past few years.”

“I go through a pack a minute -my addiction to keep 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 bore myself to death quicker than any 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 entire package of Oreos. It’ll pass through in a couple of hours, I’m sure.”

“Lovely… I could eat the whole 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. I’m still waiting for that day.”

“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 a male. I don’t think I looked that girlish. Puberty just hadn’t quite run it’s full course yet on everything. It hit my voice, for sure. On stage, you’d see this lanky girly fellow 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 rock and world peace. Got my head in the toilet a few times for it. I’m forever grateful of the bully who chose the bowl or I would have has some nasty shit on my face… literally.”

“Gross. I can never say that’s happened to me before.”

“Hope it stays that way, though I don’t think anyone will be shoving a thirty year olds face in the toilet any time soon. You’re better off without your head being drenched with 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 shall be seeing you Miss. Impatient.” A winking smiley appeared before his status changed to ‘offline’.

Setting my lappy aside, I stood up and stretched, my back popping in probably six different places, earning the most pleased sigh from me. I picked up my cookie package and glass, tossing the package in the garbage and the cup in the sink when I walked into the kitchen.

Ville still had be curious about his band, but I stood patient for him to tell me. I’d be better off that way.

I headed into the bathroom to do my business quickly and came back, setting on my couch. I grabbed my box of smokes off the table along with the lighter and stuffed them in my pockets, grabbing my laptop and headed out to the balcony into the cool night air.

I took a seat on one of the patio chairs and set my laptop down on the glass patio table, shaking out a light and setting it between my lips. My lighter scorched the end of it and I inhaled the soothing smoke. It made me wonder if Ville might be doing the same thing on his way home.

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

My computer dinged on my third smoke, with a message from Ville. I sent a reply and found myself on an all night long of talking.