I want to make love to a woman that plays the cello. I want to combine my depravity with her sophistication and make strange and surrealistic babies. I think my cello player would open up doors for me. I could go to the opera. I could go to black-tie dinners where open bars filled with expensive scotches are the norm. I could look down upon the plebeians from high in the Monadnock building and refuse to pity them. I'll smoke cigars as they stuff their faces with processed pork parts and greasy potato wedges and I think that would be just fine.
Where are you my darling? I'll be looking for you, longing for you. I know you're dressed in black and dragging that big case behind you. That case filled with my ambitions, my demons and my desires.