Congratulations Tosser!

Hey. What’s up. Look, we’re super hungover, so we’d like to get this one out as fast as we can.

Your name is Franklin, you’re a gay American and you’re vacation in Britain. This is old news to you. After all, you’ve been there for around three weeks now on a “work visa.”

But the only real work you’ve been doing is between the thighs of various men, performing sex acts, free of charge. After all, you’re only here for a few months, so why not? Its not like you’ll ever see them again.

But tomorrow night you’re going to run into Kelly.

Kelly is the one girl you thought you’d switch for back in high school. She was smart, aggressive, balls out gorgeous, and very selective. And since you’ve always had a bit of a weight problem she was way the fuck out of your league back then.

You were tearing through women back in the day, thinking that if you found the right one it might make you feel right instead of giving you the fuck and run instinct you’ve always had. You had the charisma, you had the drive, and you had the ability to convince yourself you were right. But it never took, and you always felt drawn to Kelly.

When you see her in Trafalgar’s you’ll feel like you just got a new lease on life. The introduction will be brief, but it won’t feel awkward at all. She’ll remember you immediately and her smile will come natural and beautiful as the sun.

She’ll only be there for two weeks, and her hostel will be on the other side of Hyde Park from you, but you’ll still hike your pudgy ass over there every god damn morning to greet her and take her to tourist hubs.

You’ll drag her from bar to bar and pub to pub. Occasionally you’ll even visit a British club together. At one point you’ll smoke weed and almost kiss.

And then she’ll be gone. For two whole weeks your mom would’ve been proud. She could’ve said you had a girlfriend, and it would’ve been true in its own way.

If you were a better man you’d hike out to her hostel and beg her to stay. You’d tell her you love her. You’d tell her you’re bisexual and that you’ve largely approached men as sexual partners because you’ve never met a woman who could live up to the standard she’d set in your mind.

But you aren’t. So instead you’ll sit on the Millenium Bridge. You’ll consider leaping over the suicide guards and crashing into the Thames. In your head it’ll be the most important thing you could do, a perfect coda to your cowardly life.

But you won’t be able to do it. Instead you’ll fly home, a week and a half and three sexual partners later, and start looking for temp work.

Eventually you’ll acquire enough capital, with the aid of your parents and your job, to start a small pet groom service. With time you’ll come to acquire a partner named Dan.

Dan will accept you for who you are and what you want to be. He’ll never look down on you and he will make you feel good whenever he can. Dan has had his heart broken many times, and he sees that you are good at heart but that you are ultimately afraid.

You will never come to love Dan as he loves you, but you will appreciate him and make him feel appreciated and that will be enough. The two of you will live to a ripe old age, grooming dogs until around sixty five when you start to shut down shop and just live for a change, the way you did when you were twenty-three.

You will think about Kelly every day, and Dan will know. He won’t mind. He knows that he’s your rock, and that whatever happens what the two of you have will remain intact.

When you die, you’ll kiss him on the mouth without having uttered a single syllable of Kelly Trelawney’s name before you breath your last into him and he grabs you, shivering with tears.

He always was too good for you.

But you’ll never see her after she left you in Stansted, smiling and waving, heading to meet her boyfriend in Amsterdam. You wish you knew what had happened, but time makes fools of us all.

Dan will smile, though, knowing that in the end he had you last and that your last thoughts truly were of him. And he’ll be right. In the end, Dan beat you.

Congratulations tosser.