poetry doesn’t want to go to Europe
Most mistakes people make are the result not of “one bad decision” as they claim, but of one bad decision followed in quick succession by several other really terrible decisions.
A drunk driver t-bones a stranger’s car, leaves the scene and promptly runs into a tree. A hit and run is a bad decision, a hit and run and a hit is even worse.
Sometimes people who grew up in the city ask questions about rural America like, “Do deer attack dogs?” One of these questions can be passed off as charmingly naive, but then they follow it up with, “Do you think deer are vegan?” And while you are mulling over the question of whether deer purposefully avoid drinking cow’s milk and eating cheddar, the question asker himself has already forgotten entirely about the existence of deer, and is wondering if it’s too late to get on tonight’s VIP list at Harlot.
Some people like to take vodka shots. Some people like their vodka shots to be chased by unprotected sex with someone they’ve never met and can’t even see clearly. Excessive vodka drinking can be a bad decision, but waking up to pregnant and venereal is priceless. The road to dignity is long and hard; for everything else there’s liquor.
Some people like to pick songs on the jukebox, but the third time Heart of Glass comes on someone’s gonna come looking for someone, and none of these people are that cute guy in the corner.
Sometimes people barely avoid car accidents. Then, while congratulating themselves on cheating death, they rear-end the car/stroller/house in front of them. Cheating death is one thing, but dying while cheating death can be too ironic to resist.