Looking for Someone to Talk to

I scoured the karaoke bar desperately searching for a hot single girl. There was a table of three girls and two guys, so perhaps one of them was single. That felt somewhat promising. I kept refreshing FB Dating and decided to spend ten minutes swiping. My friends were not on their phones so I felt guilty for being on mine. But I crushed that doubt remembering that nothing means anything and that we will all eventually die so who cares. 

The table had lots of wet spots, and I didn't want to touch it since it was sticky too. I had already bought four green tea shots and I was slowly sipping a Gatorade-green margarita—so sugary I could not taste the Lalo Tequila I had spent extra money for. 

I reminded myself what ChatGPT had told me. It said that looking for girls instead of being present is usually a less enjoyable time, and it was right. Damn that AI is good, I thought. So I tried to get back to the moment and turned to my friend to make fun of one of the singers. We had some good jokes at his expense and laughed hysterically. 

Who am I? I thought. Once upon a time I would've thought jokes like that were cruel. And now everything goes? Where's my sense of morality and goodness?

I was down to slurping drops of my drink at the bottom of my cup. Two of my friends were quite high now, one egregiously so; so we decided to leave. But then they called my name to sing Morgan Wallen's version of "Cover Me Up". I went up, breathed into it and sang my heart out. I refused to dance or look at anyone so I could focus on breathing properly and being technically efficient. I received positive feedback from friends and strangers as I walked back to my barstool. 

I went to take a piss and passed an absolutely beautiful girl. I considered approaching her. But I imagined her saying "no", and I just wasn't sure I could handle that. 

You never know unless you try, I imagined Obi-Wan saying to me in his calm, wise voice. 

And I won't try, I replied sadly. 

I felt like that rich young man: "He went away sad, for he had many possessions."

Then I realized how self-pitying and dramatic I was being and let the piss flow from me as I angled my body away from the restroom entrance. I wasn't sure why the urinals were within view of anyone opening the door too wide. 

I zipped up and walked back into the bar, still unsure what kind of man I was becoming.