Sorrenson thought that the morning was the greatest time of day.  He'd stopped going to AA because he found that women were not desperate at all.  Soon, they were proud and removed from the whole idea of dining out on the buffet they found in AA and got right into God.  They became spiritual bores in no time.

Sorrenson knew he was the greatest lover on the planet.  Or at least the greatest lover on the street.  He had a penis that could do things.  It probably didn't feel as good to go to the place as it did to go to a woman's, but it could do anything.  It could dance, and he could pin it behind his leg and feel it there.  Then his genitals disappeared and he was left with the wrinkle that looked like a girl's.  It was that that made him want to spend all of his time staring at pussy or with his head on a woman's ass.  It was like they breathed through their ass.  That's why their asses were so big.  They had to fill them up with farts the same way they filled up their lungs with air.  But women had the greatest everythings.  Their breasts were filled with liquid gold, but it wouldn't come out.  He had tried.  Bellies were holdable.  He was glad he had kept his penis.   

Sorrenson was getting married.  He'd been in love since he got his apartment and filled it with French literature that wasn't in translation and therefore he couldn't read them.  But his fiance could.  She read to him with her legs open and her nightie on.  She looked like his grandmother and then his next wife.  Her hair was the best hair he'd ever seen on a woman and when he was a boy, he obsessed over women's hair.  Joanne was the greatest woman he had ever met and they had sex.  His experience from his first marriage was that love was instantly killed by marriage.  But he was sure that things would be different with Joanne.  She had the world's greatest ass.  It looked like a bubble.  He treated it like a person, going so far as to draw on it with his nails.  He sung to her bum, and talked to it, the way that people were supposed to talk to plants.  "Maybe it'll grow bigger," he sighed.  He looked at her pussy up her nightie and sighed too.  He ate danishes while he watched her genitals that couldn't be less performing.  "I guess that's what they mean by stars that don't do anything anymore," Sorrenson said.  Joanne closes her legs and sits on the floor.  "I always thought that TM was the best way to stay a virgin," Joanne said.  "My mother thought so too.  When I got a boyfriend, she started getting me into TM.  Omm!  Omm!"  Sorrenson rolls on the floor, with his arms over his head.  "Let's fuck," he said.  "Omm!" Joanne said.  She closed her eyes.

Sorrenson found that the women from AA were completely crazy and easy.  They wanted someone to talk to and they wanted to prove that their loneliness was only temporary.  Mostly, they fell in love easily.

Sorrenson went to an AA meeting to meet girls.  He had quit jogging and gained twenty pounds.  He sat in the front and heard someone say, "that's a thirteenth stepper; you should stay clear."
      He knew they were talking about him and he didn't know how they knew already what he was doing and that he didn't want anything from the program.  He could still hear them say that he was probably still drinking. 

A fund was set up and Sorrenson was given an apartment.
     "How can you justify giving an apartment to a known cheater?" a reporter asked a representative from the housing department.  The woman stepped in front of the TV camera and pointed at a photo of Sorrenson.  "He cheated on his wife."
     "Our goal is to see that the homeless have a place to live," the man replied.  He looked down at his tie and straightened it.  "We have no right to judge anyone for cheating."
     "You might start," the reporter said.  "The rest of us have."

The local paper covered the story of the man who was living in his car in front of a building where he used to live with his wife and son.  He had no bank account and therefore he paid his alimony and child support in cash and his wife wrote him a receipt.  His wife came right to his car to collect it.  The story generated a lot of stories from the angry men who were fighting custody laws.  They wrote a lot of letters and a few were published.