Kristian MichailI am on a date at a jazz bar. The girl I am with is stereotypically hot. She makes me look very, very good. If she were a trophy, she’d sit nicely in the cabinet. There is a problem though. I am bored. There is zero interest in keeping up this gruelling conversation. She is not a bad person, She is quite smart actually. She is just a drone-like copy of every other soulless robot that is fresh off the factory floor. I just can’t help but want to snore in her presence. Across the other side of the room is an older woman. Slightly beyond the age bracket of MILF. She catches my eye on purpose. This woman has spirit. Her audacity is irrefutable by how she is sitting and what she is wearing. Big red lips and a cigarette in her mouth. Puffing and sucking like she has seen it all before. How dare she be so bold. I like it. I like it a lot. She licks her mouth and stares directly towards my crotch. A lady who knows what she wants. Under the table, she begins to share her secrets with me. Her private little world is spread wide open and I am the only man in the world invited to the show. The room is dark, but there is no way my eyes miss this. As the saxophone gets louder, so does the intensity of her face. Jazz has never sounded so good. What a shame it is not her sitting next to me. I enjoy every second of her pleasure. It is our naughty little secret in a world of fakes and lies. End of dream.