He sat his well tailored suit and Italian leather shoes sipping the whiskey neat he had ordered not too long ago. The blood red leather seats and mahogany wood floors of the bar suggested an air of elegance and sophistication. The darkened lighting and flickering candles spelled out the hell like sexiness of the room and it's patrons. Sinners dwell here, the good kind so to speak. He surveyed the room and all those moving around him, but he was lost, as he had a good much on his mind. "You should be married, you're such a good man"... The words of his mother ringing in his ear. "Good". He thought. "What is good"? "A good son perhaps, but a man"? No he was not good, this was no place for the good. But perhaps, he thought, perhaps he could be that man. It was not as if he didn't think of it, dream of it, pray for it....but alas it had not. But he could not feel sorry for himself, for he was innocent and guilty at the same time. Her smile popped into his head, the woman that got away, the one he could not get over, the one he could not let go. "Hello old friendly ghost, come to haunt me again"? He saw her eyes in the bottom of his glass. "Another", the waitress asked? He nodded. "What would it be like", he wondered? To be behind the seat of the mini-van, kids all tucked in their seats on their way to some destination. A basketball game, or a movie, ...maybe a family cook out. How would it feel to sit and watch them run around and play, or to have them call you because they wanted to be pushed on the swing or have you catch them coming down the slide. All these things he wondered as he slid left or right through the pages of Tinder, hunting his next prey. "What good was being good anyway? He didn't necessarily feel bad for himself, but he did for the women he encountered on his treacherous path, those who deserved good, those who had been deprived of it...he wanted to be good for them...he wanted to be good for all of see them happy. Again, innocent and guilty at the same time...for just as soundly did he put them to their happy slumber, so would he leave them there and escape in the night, back into the wild of the moon's glow. He left them with well wishes in his heart, and the heavy truth in his mind. Some men are meant to be happy, and some are meant to be great....and the two very rarely go hand in hand....and so he struggled with the children on opposite ends of a side would go up, but the other side would go down....there was no real winning....and so he settled for greatness and continued to pursue it intently. No he would have to be content with his fine suits and his fleeting moments of passion and pleasure... It was at this moment that she walked in... black dress and heels to match, curves that reminded him of sunset drives on the pacific coast highway....beautiful.....and dangerous. She looked his way and smiled as the bartender handed her a Martini. She stood there, staring at her glass....and he sat there staring at his. " I could be that good man, he thought again...I could." And then he got up from his seat, approached the woman in the black dress, and smiled.  


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