I've got no soul. I had one once but, like losing your virginity, losing your soul is easy to do. Oops! There it goes. Like misplacing your keys. An annoying but unremarkable event. I remember the moment, the smell of sweat. I can picture the cubicle door with its lipstick graffiti hearts and eyeliner drawings. I can feel my bare legs sticking to the stained floor, tacky from spilled beer and godknowswhat. Losing your soul is easy to do. One too many vodkas. One too many pills. Or maybe it happens over a series of moments. A bad choice. A dream. A kiss. Like getting laid for the first time, it's never how you picture it.