I have this condition.

So where am I? Well, look at this. I'm on top of this beautiful naked blonde. A whore? I'm not that kind of guy. So what am I doing fucking her? I'm pushing into her as she moans. I look around the room. I see my coat hung over a chair. She should be in my pictures, or in my notes. Maybe even on my tattoo's if she were important. I check my arms and chest, but nothing. She has her eyes tightly shut, so she can't see me looking around like a fool.

“Say my name” She moans.

What!? Now I'm in deep shit. Should I just take a gamble? I mean, how many girls names are there? Millions. I look around the room again. Any clues to her name? No, no, no, no, no! Time is passing, she is going to kill me! Who is she! Her eyes ease open. She looks up at me, just seeing the blank expression in my eyes.

“Say my name” She repeats. This time it sounds more like a question than a demand. Okay, I am going to just have to come clean with her.

“I have this condition.” I reply pathetically.

“Helen! My name is Helen, Lenny.” She says. She looks really upset.

“Do you know about my condition?” I ask.

“Yeah!” She shouts. Well why the hell are you mad? It's not my fucking fault! Jesus! I climb off her, take of the condom and drop it on the floor. I walk over to the chair and get dressed. When I start to walk our the motel room. Looking through my photos I find one of her. The caption says: Helen, long time girlfriend. Remember, buy a ring, ask her to marry you.

I better go back and say sorry.