Maybe I’ll meet someone at the baby shower. This is the sort of shit my sponsor would tell me to look for women at. The sort of shit that normal men, men who talk like sitcom dialogue, would tell me to meet women at. “That sort of shit drives chicks NUTS, man,” says a balding potbellied actuary who has never fucked a woman after a baby shower. These will be normal girls, accomplished girls with a slight artistic bent who dress well and are friends of friends. That’s how Brown University Mini Cooper driving girls over 28 get their dick– friends introducing them. You should meet Jake, he hang glides and has a great job. My friends, all the girls they know are ugly. Or my friends who know hot girls never invite me places. Why would you.
The girls at the baby shower have boyfriends. Probably someone they met at a previous baby shower. Whatever, just go and congratulate these people on their stupid baby. I want to have kids some day but god help me I don’t want to have a stupid baby shower. I have to bring a stupid baby picture of myself so they can project it on the wall and play a guessing game. Which adult is which baby. God, they will think– what the fuck happened to his face. Wonder if I have one in a drawer somewhere. No, just some diaper fetish hooker’s business card.
Don’t you DARE lose that fucking card.