savannah life

Consider you are a lion. Consider this bar is the dusty plains of the savannah, and the girl, drunk, next to you, feigning interest, is a young gazelle. Consider the games she will make you play, jumping and juking through the grass, you in pursuit, weaving closely behind. Consider this, she is your prey, and you are starving.

You consider all this because it is what a man wearing blue plaid, standing at the bar with an arm across your shoulders, slurring, told you. His words were difficult to make out over the noise, and becuase he was drunk. But the words, so far as you can tell, were these:
You see that bitch you’re with? You’re a lion, man, and she’s your fucking prey. You’re the motherfucking king of the jungle. So it’s like this, all you have to do is follow her around, and play all her games. I can see what she's doing to you, but you can't act like you give a shit. She's just trying to make you jealous. Alls you do is you just walk up to that bitch over there (he gestures toward a girl on the opposite side of the bar), and put your arms around her, and ask her how she’s doing. It doesn’t even matter if she likes it or not, that’s what you do to show that you can get laid when you want, because you’re the lion and she’s your fucking dinner. Just sink your teeth in man. Just fucking bite.

Consider though, what do lions do when they really like the gazelle? Why should the lion chase if he doesn't want to kill and eat her?

And what if the gazelle walks across the room to spend the night whispering in the ear of another predator? Should the lion perhaps reconsider his role in the food chain?

What does a lion do when it can not find food? And how long can it starve before the vultures spot it, limping across the golden grass far below. Soon they will start their patient, slowly arching circles. Moving down from the sky they will wait. And soon, they too must eat.