F*ck Love

by Brian Schwartz

What you have to understand in order to grasp the import of what I'm about to relate is that March 17 is the biggest loudest most venerated day on the calendar of the drinking man. Now not by coincidence that very day is a big and honored holiday in the Republic of Ireland, but the drinking thing just cuts across all nation borders. Now where I live is one of the fifty biggest cities in the U S of A, but it is still a small town in some ways and one of those ways is that just about everybody goes to the same bar. So that bar was the epicenter of that most revered night's festivities and if I hadn't gone so early with most people still outside watchin' the sunset I might even now still be in the line that snaked out the door. And of course I was dressed with a festive night in mind, shinin' bright white wool jacket, shirt starched stiff and gleaming as a dinner plate fresh from the dishwasher, with bold blue stripes just to grab your attention, and in honor of the occasion a green plastic bow tie. And it was indeed a lovely jacket and shirt but no one cared, everyone wanted that tie which was not a famous designer tie but was instead a 69 cents plus tax tie from Med-X convenience and drug store. Girls were promising me just about anything if I gave them that tie and they were drunk enough that they would probably have followed through. Ah but I turned them all away, I wanted that tie. So many girls, so much noise and laughter, it was like the whole world was a big bubbling glass of champagne. And I talked and joked and laughed and even sang out loud when they played that old Irish song about the rover, whose rovin' never no more. And people liked me, sought me out, took my photo and in general thought I was an asset, a welcome addition to their night, and I rode on the waves of their affection and in general just felt like a hero. And on and on I rode, buoyant, and then came the big realization. Day after day, hour after hour, I search for love and troll for love and beg for love and dream of love. Like a man in waiting, waiting for the love of my life to show up and my life to begin. So last night it just hit me. F*ck love. It don't get better than this.

St. Paddy's day epiphany