No screamin' eagle shit. Any bartender on the planet coulda verified this. So could Mickey Gilley. (He wrote "The Girls All Get Prettier At Closing Time," one of the finest Do-A-Shot-Of-Jack-And-Take-A-Pasadena-Snuff-Queen-Home honky-tonk anthems of all freakin' time.) Lawd knows I've woken up a few times wondering where the hell the woman I took home went to, and what her fugly sister was doing in my bed.
I've joked that I was the kinda guy that would start out the night looking for a ten, and end up settling for five twos. :-)
'Course, that was in my younger days. I'm older and wiser now. Or, maybe, just more tired... "But if you used to want to see a commotion You shoulda seen the man that I used to be I was trouble in perpetual motion Trouble with a capital "T" Stayin' out late, havin' fun And shot off every single shot in my gun Yeah I used to be a terror but Now I am a tired man Yeah I used to be a terror but Now I am a tired man"
Jim Croce - "Careful Man"
I'm sure this is not a new idea. I think it was Socrates that mentioned the increasing freedom he felt as aged from the tyranny of his fleshly desires. I'm not that old yet, but I've certainly grown out of my youthful weakness for boinking anybody that would hold still for a few minutes. :-)
I think an experiment is in order. I think I ought to go to a Bourbon St. topless club, slam some whiskey, pop a couple Viagra, (just to simulate those late teen testosterone levels) and see if I get really stoopid - like handing over my wallet to some airhead psycho titty dancer stoopid. I think a passing grade is spending less than $200.
If I can pass that test, I can report to my mom that I have finally Grown Up. :-)