Humor Fiction posted November 18, 2017


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A woman thinks she's through with men.

Man Trouble

by Thomas Bowling

A Funny Story Contest Winner 

It was Tuesday evening and the lounge at Patrick's was almost empty. John walked past his usual barstool and sat down beside the only woman in the place.

“I'm afraid I'm not going to be very good company,” the woman said.

“Let me guess -- man troubles?”

“Are you a psychic?” she asked, sarcastically.

“You don't have to be a psychic to understand that when a beautiful woman drinks alone, there's a man involved.”

She sipped her drink, "Love is like a fart. If you have to force it, it's probably crap."

Frank, the bartender, set a Kettle One on the rocks in front of John. The woman looked at the man for the first time. “Are all men creeps?”

“Just the interesting ones. Some men are boring.”

“Which type are you?”

“I've been told I'm not boring.”

“You're funny. What's your name?”

“John Wayne. My parents had a sense of humor.”

“I used to have a cat named John Wayne.”

“Really?”

“No. Are you dense? Of course, you are. You're a man.”

“Ouch.”

“Don't worry. I like men who are a little dense. If I didn't, I'd drink alone every night.”

“Wow. You're on a roll.”

“I told you I wasn't going to be fun.”

“It's okay. I'm a big boy. I can handle it.”

“I'm sorry. I'm grumpy. It's probably because I'm transitioning.”

John looked her over. “You look good just the way you are.”

“You really are dense. I should call you Den-seI. I mean I'm changing jobs.”

“I knew that,” John said. “I just meant you look nice tonight.”

“Nice try. So, what do you do, John Wayne?”

“I'm a private detective.”

“In other words, you're unemployed.”

“Most of the time.”

“What do you drive? Or are you one of those guys who pedals his bicycle to the bar?”

“I've got a Mercedes SL. My last client paid well.”

“Things are looking up. You can take me out sometime. I'll leave the sarcasm at home. Promise.”

John pretended to check his schedule. “How about Saturday?”

“Saturday works for me. I'll meet you here at eight.” She stood up to leave.

“Wait. You didn't tell me your name.”

“Next time, Cowboy.”

 
 
 


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© Copyright 2017. Thomas Bowling All rights reserved.
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