Kiss Me, I'm Shitfaced

It's a mediocre day, the first one in a long while that isn't fucking freezing. The place isn't roaring, but busy enough that I get to stay outside all day and help customers. I'm leaning against the new forklift which has become my ride of choice (it is by far the sexiest piece of machinery I have ever seen) killing time before I get to go home. My Army friend is telling me about how he has developed a terrible addiction to lying to women.

"I was drinking at this bar a while ago, and there was this girl that was pretty hot. I mean, she was decent. So, she starts asking me what I do for a living and shit. At the time I was delivering pizza, and that's a really fucking embarrassing thing to tell a girl. "Yea, I'm a pizza delivery boy." I don't think so.

"I hear that. That's shitty"

"Yea. So I told her I was an investment banker."

I just took a drag from a cigarette and am now half choking on the smoke becuase I'm laughing too hard.

"A fucking investment banker? Are you kidding?"

"Nah. I know they make money, so that's what I told her."

"Dude, I don't think there's many investment bankers that look like you."

"Don't think so?"

He smiles and blows smoke out of his mouth. He's wearing a Red Sox T-shirt, and has fiery red hair that screams, "Irish" like nothing else can. There's tattoos on both forearms, one of which says, "Death Before Dishonor", and above it is a huge scar from a cut he gave himself (that needed eighteen stitches to close) with a box cutter while drunk one night. His pinkie finger on his right hand is probably broken, and there's a huge scab on it from when he punched a brick wall the other night (also drunk, of course.)

An investment banker. Sure.

"Well, anyway, I tell her that, and everything is going smooth. I'm hooking up with her and shit, and she's liking me."

"Right."

"Then she drops the bomb, and starts asking me about my "job". She goes, "So, what do you do as an investment banker?" And I go, "Well.... I, uh, invest. In banks." And then she looked at me and says, "What did you say?" So I said it again. She looks at me and goes, "That's not what an investment banker does."

"Christ."

"Yea. So she says, "What do you really do?" And so I tell her, "I'm in the Army." And what fucking response do I get? "So, uh, you really don't make much money, huh?"

"Hahaha. Good to see she really liked you."

"I told her, "No, I make shit money, and whatever is left I spend on tattoos and beer." She stayed another ten minutes then took off. Fuckin bitch."

"Classy lady. You find the good ones."

"Of course."