Today people stared.
Not too awkwardly because it has happened before.
But it was weird enough.
Sherry had a smile that made men want to masturbate. Merv had a thing for Sherry.
Merv, being a pervert and a nice guy at the same time, lived a life a solitary torment and excitement, also at the same time.
People would ask Merv, “Merv, why you tied down to one woman? You could be gettin’ so much ass if you was single…”
Actually, Merv was playing that conversation out in his head frequently. Merv would give himself pep talks in his bathroom mirror on mornings when he felt motivated enough to pop out of his bed and seize the day by its throat.
He would stand at his mirror, and focus intently on his reflection’s left eye. He was told that if he practiced this technique steadily enough day after day, he would be able to see into his soul. By getting deep inside himself, Merv felt the rest of the world consisted merely of setting and supporting characters.
“If I was single,” Merv would begin his mantra, “I would be rich. If I was single, I would be drunk every night, eventually breaking down and soliciting prostitutes, or wining and dining girls so hard up for a man that they would swallow anyone’s unborn kids just to get some attention. If I was single…”
Merv would present himself with variations incarnations of this mantra each day.
He also had very little focus, so many days were trudged through without these meditations.
“I could only imagine Sherry in bed,” Merv told some his colleagues one afternoon in the cafeteria. They would gather there, usually sad looking men in overly washed and underly pressed white button-downs, frequently adorned with splotches of leaking ink pens or coffee accidents.