I wasn’t a good guy but she was my bad guy. 

Bleach bottle blond hated it when I pulled on her hair; chocolate drop knew how to drop it like it’s hot and Afro puff was a saintly virgin. A good girl like Her but I had hit that too and then there she was in a category all to herself. HER, the heartless illusionary that had me believing in happy ever after complete with white picket fences, 2.5 miniature versions of ourselves and her as my wife. She led me on to drop me like a sack of potatoes and then ride off into the sunset with her Prince Charming complete with island paradise, a halo for his crown and a castle filled with everything I couldn’t give her.

Perusing tonight’s slim pickings, left to right my eyes searched for a paltry but temporary replacement. Note carefully I said temporary as in with sunrise the luminescent thrill of a wet pussy creaming over my dick would dull like the moon fading into dawn. In the landscape of feminine forms dressed in skin tight outfits, grinding to the pumping bass and becoming increasingly inebriated I charted a topographic map.  I mentally placed red identifying pin flags on past conquests. Red for the ones I had already plumaged their wild forests, yellow for possible prospects and green for the appealing foreign lands I had yet to visit but would make it my mission to get around to it.

Tonight’s stand in was out there. It was true, I still believed there was a perfect somebody for every soul but that didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy her goodies until Mr. Right came along or I grew bored. I was doing society a much needed service. I would teach them as I would the next one after she hopped on and off my dick tonight. Instilling in the next pitiful creature a standard she should never look for in a guy.

I’m not a regular Joe but inescapably all the ones after her held the quixotic belief they could be her and me their Mr. Right. I quickly crushed their optimism. I’m not the good guy. Not even close to being the moniker for the guy that gets the girl at the end of a sappy chick flick.  

I’m the sad fuck at the end of the bar nursing a glass of cranberry juice on the rocks. Sad ain’t it. My taste buds cringed at the thought of adding potent spirits to the ice chilled mix I held in my hand. A lesser man would’ve made it a proper drink, a manly drink but I was a better man. Greater than the angry bitter drunk that once seized my faculties in the wake of her leaving. At least I could be grateful for that too maybe the episodic drama of her hadn’t been all that bad.

“Hear me nuh! Hear me nuh! Hear me nuh!” The graveled voice of the new DJ interrupted the lively techno strums of Will I Am crooning in that second, “Woo hoo - tonight’s gonna be a good night.”

I scoffed at the reference of ‘good’. These nights always ended the same, another regrettable experience and disappointment in my existence after her.  But I figured if I ran into her tonight something might spark a change.

 “I don’t know how guys with girlfriends come to places like these and not get into trouble,” I spoke my observation to my best friend, Charlie above the ring in my deafened ear drums.  Skinny ones, curvy ones, bohemian looking ones, stuck up bitches, high maintenance tricks. Made up ones, all natural ones, tall ones, short ones, big booty ones-I rather preferred big booties. All sizes, shapes and shades of willing females, illustriously attired in tempting ensembles out-numbered the men inside the packed nightclub.

“Yeah, I see your point,” Charlie answered glimpsing over in admiration of the appealing roundness shaped in a white dress that flared at the hips standing a few feet away. Charlie raised quizzical eyebrows and titled a head covered with a curly dark mane in silent flattery of the vixen I was admiring.

Taking a sip from the cup of rum and coke, Charlie’s wandering eyes glazed over to another form. This time donned in black trailing through the throngs of white draping. Tonight’s party was an all-white affair.

“YES!” Charlie animated “I think I found my eye-candy tonight.”

I shook my head and twisted my lips at Charlie for bringing my attention to something I would have to later scorch out of my brain.    

“Hear me NOW!” the DJ bellowed to the revelers commanding all eyes to the DJ booth. I took the opportunity to do a full body scan of the fat ass in white that got Charlie’s stamp of approval.

“Big up to the birthday people - Tricia, Roman, Steve and Jackie,” the DJ continued from his podium. “Yes we going to get this bumboclaat party started right.”

Shouts of hurrahs and whistles of approvals roared throughout Club Teal as I looked at my watch noting the late hour, it was three hours past midnight.

“Psst,” the DJ cackled over the microphone. “Yes you,” he spoke and raised his meaty hand pointing in the direction of the conquest from six months ago, that craved to be the center of attention wherever her bloated sense of self landed.

“The one wid the blond weave and tight little sumn, sumn; call me later you hear,” he went on.

I returned my attention to the sharp taste of the cranberry virgin cocktail and rolled my eyes at the absurdity of the DJ.   

 “No, not now baby love. I’m working.” The DJ echoed again.

“What is with this DJ?” Charlie bubbled in a fit of laughter next to me.

“Jamaican,” I grumbled trying to hide my amusement too. Her Prince Charming had been Jamaican. I raised my head to glance over to where the DJ had pulled the crowd’s attention to observe Afro puff laughing it up with bottle blond.

Women I will never understand them.

I wanted to spit in disgust at the sisterly interaction across the room. Bleach blond had been Afro’s best friend at the time we dated but that didn’t stop bleach blond from fucking me two days after we broke up. I had let the bomb drop on Afro puff’s plans for a happy future after her folks relentlessly pushed the when are we getting married button. We had barely celebrated the four month mark and her church folk parentage was already naming their grandbabies. Things got a little too heavy too fast. Afro was the only one I regret hurting after Her.

You would think Afro was the one that got away with how much I had invested into making Afro happy but sadly no.  The heartless bitch that ripped out of my chest the thumping muscle that pumped life into my dreams and conviction to pursue them was an entirely different creature.  In her cruel departure she severed all ties including the veins that flowed back to my aspirations.  The courage and motivation to be a good guy left along with her. With this alluring look in her eyes that made me crave for their approval, she had me clutched in the palm of her hand. She made me feel alive as if the impossible was attainable but now that was all over. I was a soulless shell unable to find anything that could live up to my expectations.

Bopping my head and humming intermittently to the rhythm of the DJ spinning together some tunes I had heard and some new ones, I eased off the bar stool.  

“Are you good with handling Ms. Thickums over there,” Charlie questioned.

“Yeah, I’m good. Go chase your eye –candy.” I answered and shooed Charlie away.

“You do know Gabriella is here, right?” Charlie informed me. I knew she was here it was the deciding factor in coming here tonight. I wanted to face the she-devil that had forever changed me.