I love the smartphone. I am a writer, so that means I am also a voyeur who dissects the language of the human condition by almost creepy levels of staring. And then being a judgmental prick. The smartphone has gotten me 200% less yelled at and threatened as long as I observe with eyes slightly down.

My wife has been voraciously sick with Mexiflu acquired on our recent vacation to the Swiss alps. Just kidding…we went to Mexico. Anyway, to find good variety for dinner and to satiate the cravings of the sick, I am stuck waiting for take out at a tex mex happy hour.

HOW THE HELL IS THIS OVAL TROUGH OF DESPERATION AND REGRET HAPPY?

Booze…

But beyond that, it’s desperation leaning upon liquored-up desperation. Two negatives ALWAYS equal a positive kids…no…not with people. That’s a formula for simply a hot mess.

Desperate Hour’s Most Dangerous Predator! Charlie Air Hustle 

My target for dissection and further scrutiny in some piece later, is Charlie Air Hustle. This Air Jordan wearing Lathario of a personality as silky as his breathable shorts, is honed in on two YaYa sisters looking for their Stella. But they are white ladies and not that attractive or interesting – so Stella without the sex, and more money laundering.
I’ve seen Charlie’s action before. He is a fascinating creature of side buzzed cut hair delicately placed wispy upon his lip.
First move is most fascinating. Facts that aren’t facts, like Michael J Fox filming all of MASK before anyone realized he was too short to work with Cher. Wait. He wasn’t even that clever. He said some shit about stereo equipment and smoky the fact he was a man and could speak was all that was necessary for these lonely vessels of recent divorce.

Next move – pics. Being tall as fuck, I could see. Now I can’t unsee this tool with whip cream in his naval trailing off out of frame.

My food arrives, like a smarmy clockwork Air Hustle enters into his C zone (closing, get your head out of the gutter). He slides away the scumbag sundae pics to begin hostage negotiations. If these ladies can invest in his…whatever the hell…I couldn’t follow and clearly I was the only one trying. It was something like Amway, but with more layers. One lady took out a check book, one passed…I know who I think the winner is, but I don’t want to judge. Well, I will judge eventually, but not today.

Ladies, we men are simple. Charm. Intelligence. Attractiveness. Big big motivators for us. If you ever think that this guy is too good looking for the level of interest he’s giving, and the little you two have in common, trust your gut. If you want to pay for love and attention, cool, but just skip the theatrics and start with a price.

Sigh…humans…