The story so far:
The young man sits in his reclined chair, and smokes a bowl full of weed. He holds it in and releases, thinking, I hope I never am a father.
The woman on a airplane ask for a cup of water, but the man next to her sugest something stronger. They drink to the brink, and when strong gets long they never stop to ask for a repeat.
The young man takes a flight to OKC, and the woman finds him in a local bar hoping for the drinking sponsor. Instead, she sees him there with his gold blond hair, the ribbons of his chest and arms, and the scent of money. She says to him, "how ya doing, honey?" he replies, "I don't have enough money to make you my honey."
"We're both on credit from here on out", she says "I want to **** if that's what you're about."
The young man thinks: 'yea, I'm high, but without the worry that nomally incurs on weed's jury. Forget the wife, and the house you've promised; there's a girl her to give your joy's whirl.'
And he says, "If credit is what your after, you know, I won't be here after, but if you want a man that's under depression's rapture; I'm what you're lookin' for."
She thinks: 'yea, I can handle that. buy me a couple and you'll be at my feet like the door mat that seldom reeks.'
The young man gets high again, and knows that it's not a sin to get what you've got, and got what you have, but the polar is promising: you've got to get what you grab.
The woman is ready, on the brink, hoping for the high, and waiting for a drink. The child in the belly is no concern because life is what you learn.