Easy

First thought from the writer, this’ll be a fun write. I get to write about someone who’s easy. Or something that was really easy to do. Or taking the easy way out when the going gets tough. Like choosing clichés over well-thought-out pearls of wisdom, including: the going gets tough, pearls of wisdom, taking the easy way out.

My whole life is a cliché. So let’s get back to that person who’s so bleepin’ easy. I’d like to tell you about him. Okay, so I divulged he’s an easy guy. And if you live in San Francisco, that person would have to be gay, right? Because all of the easy guys in the City on the Hill are gay, right? Well, you’d be half correct. This guy is so easy that he’s saturated the entire market of Market Street, male and female. They even named a gutter after him. He’s so easy that rabbits look on him with jealousy. He’s so easy that New Orleans has sued him for trademark violations. You get the idea, must I wrack my brain trying to conjure up stupid puns so I can think I’m smart?

Let’s face it, I’m not that smart. Yes, I can spell and I can write with correct grammar. And yes, I can even vary my writing to give that informal, cool, kinda-trendy tone that writers like. And I can write a believable sentence that ends in a proposition, because that’s where it’s at.

But writing about someone who’s easy in San Francisco, the easiest easy town in the easy state of California, in the easy U.S. of A.? Hell, it ain’t easy.