Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Pennsylvania

Three buddies and I did a 1,100 mile motorcycle ride around the perimeter of PA this weekend. The trip was a guys weekend planned for us to get in a lot of riding, and to clear our heads. Our trip was a counter-clockwise circle through PA with one night in Wellsboro, PA (population about 1,000) and the second night in State College, AKA the Happy Valley. With one DEA Agent and a DA in the group we rode with complete impunity all weekend.

Let me set the scene for you. We were riding three Harleys and a Ducati, all very filthy from driving on gravel and dirt. The bikes had packs hanging off all sides covered in black garbage bags to protect them from the rain. We were all unshaven and wore the same clothes every day. The DEA agent had not shaved or cut his hair since December in an attempt to "fit in" with his clientele. In short, we were a rolling pig-pen.

Our route was all backroads once we were out of Philly. The roads were generally two lanes of winding pavement or gravel that led us through some tiny burgs, most just a stop light and a Dollar General store. The big towns would have a gas station, a real treat for us since we were usually rolling around on fumes.

A long weekend in rural Pennsylvania put the DC dating scene into perspective. We have things pretty good here.

The biggest trend we noticed in these areas was an apparent teen pregnancy epidemic. Young girls were pregnant, pushing a stroller with a kid, or both. We discussed this at great length and determined that there wasn't anything to do in these towns except fuck, which I can understand. What I don't understand is why they would choose to have a kid? With so much pregnancy all I can think is that they are either trying to get pregnant or have no idea how babies are made. Quite depressing, really.

The night in Wellsboro was fairly quiet. After 12 hours on the road, two of which were spent riding in a downpour and soaking wet, we were fairly tired and just wanted a beer and a steak. We found a hole-in-the-wall steak house and were just able to get a table before the kitchen closed at 9pm. Yes, the kitchen closed at 9 on a Friday. The good news is that the bars stayed open until 2am. We downed some steaks and whiskey, had a couple of beers at the (only) bar, and called it a night. Our neighbors in the hotel were up until 3am "hootin' and hollerin'", so we woke at 8am, backed our bikes up to their motel door and fired up the engines. We let them idle for 30 minutes while we packed. Between our shaggy looks and guns clipped to our belts they didn't say a word when they came out in their underwear to see what was going on.

We cut our ride short on Saturday so that we could spend the night in State College, PA, home of Penn State. We rolled into town around 9pm and were able to get the last two rooms available anywhere in the city. The hotel was really nice, and there was a wedding going on in the lobby. The bride probably lost her shit when she saw us get off the elevator. We dumped our bags and found a restaurant to have a steak. After dinner we went to some dive bar and sat at a booth to drink a few beers.

While we were drinking a groups of middle-aged women walked over to our table and said "scoot in", and sat with us. We all introduced ourselves and ordered another round. The girls were "in town" for one girl's birthday. They all lived 60 miles outside of State College. To put this into perspective, State College is tiny, and VERY rural, so 60 miles outside of SC is truly east-bumblefuck.

The women were all 39 and moms of multiple children. Actually, one woman's 19 year old daughter was babysitting another woman's 6, 9 and 13 year old kids. They were all attractive, but in a normal setting you would never go out of your way to chat any of them up. Also, they were all divorced or separated. Given the circumstances, though, we were content to have a good time with them.

Only this guy Chris and I were single, the other two dudes in our group were married with children. At 2am we all left the bar. I walked back to the hotel with two girls, and Chris left with two others to get a slice of pizza. The other two dudes in the group went directly back to the hotel.

I will make a very long story short. Chris ended up getting head from one chick in the pizza parlor parking lot. I ended up in the hotel room with one chick who gave me a bad hand job and even worse head. Afterwards we were all in the rooms making a lot of noise and the manager eventually came up and said if we didn't settle down we would be kicked out or arrested. The 19 daughter of one chick eventually came and picked up her mom and her friend's, which was obviously a really strange scene.

I got back into town Monday afternoon. I had an Internet date planned from the week before, which I really wanted to bail on, but I felt bad and kept the date. I showed up late, sunburned, and very tired, I really didn't want to be there at all. The girl turned out to be pretty cool, but I wasn't attracted to her. The only thing I liked was that she was very forward, and had a somewhat dirty mouth. Dirty mouth equals dirty mind, which is a turn on, but I really wasn't that into it. We had three drinks then left the bar.

This weekend I am heading to Dewey Beach with a big group of friends, including Kay, the girl I invited to a baseball game but ended up babbling incoherently at.

One final note. I just took the elevator downstairs to get lunch and ran into GG. I got a big hello from her, which I didn't expect. My coworkers know the whole story with her and said her greeting seemed promising. Maybe I'll see her at the gym tonight.

Thursday, June 25, 2009

BEAR!

I forgot to mention this. Tuesday night I tuned up my bike for my ride. I went through the engine, changed oil, plugs, filters, etc. I also cleaned the chain. After you clean the chain you have to heat it up with a short (but fast) ride so that it's hot when you spray on the wax (I know, this sounds sexual).

Long story short, I cleaned the chain then went tearing through my neighborhood to heat the chain. I was screaming down Independence when I spotted this tall sexy girl with her boobs practically hanging out of her shirt walking down the sidewalk. I took a closer look then hit the brakes, "Hey, I know her!". It was bear. I stopped and we talked for about 30 minutes about all kinds of stuff. Finally, I said I had to go. We left it that we would "talk" sometime, but I had no idea what that meant.

The next morning I received an email from Bear saying that it was good to see me and that she missed hanging out together. I agree with both. I really miss the sex with Bear, she was one of the most confident, uninhibited, sexual partners I have ever had. The problem is that she was a basket case out of bed.

I am sure the meeting will result in a few booty-calls this summer.

Internet Date 2: Firecracker

Last night I met the firecracker out for a drink on the waterfront and had a good time. This was our second attempt at meeting up and almost didn't happen.

I saw Firecracker online and sent her an email. She seemed really athletic, was into SCUBA diving, and a lot of other outdoor activities. I'm not sure how I got the impression, but I felt that she had a wild streak.

Firecracker: The Firecracker is 24, about 5'2", dark hair and dark complexion. She was much skinnier in her pictures, but she was still fairly petite in person. Cute face, and very talkative. By talkative, I mean that I didn't have to lead the conversation the entire time.

We emailed and texted a few times last week, and made tentative plans to meet up for a beer last Sunday. On Sunday afternoon I sent her a text asking if she wanted she still wanted to get together, and I got a message back that she was at the Nats game, drunk, and wouldn't be able to make it. We rescheduled for Wednesday night.

We met at the bar around 9 and had a couple drinks. Overall the night was uneventful. She was easy to talk to, but I don't think I was getting the full Firecracker persona, she seemed a little shy. I guess it is the best you can expect given the awkward circumstances. I gave her a ride home after the bar and we made out in the car for a little while in front of her building. She said she had a friend in town visiting for two nights, and I get the feeling she had me drop her off near her building, but not right in front of it (I don't really know which building was hers). I'm OK with that, I've been there before. She's probably banging an ex who's in town for the week and didn't want him to spot her getting out of my car. Again, no problem so long as I get the same treatment next week.

As she got out of my car I said "So, want to meet up sometime next week?", she said "Fuck yeah!" and walked away. That was a strange reply, I guess things went well. Next week she's coming over to test out my new hot tub.

On a more interesting note, I finally talked to GG last night. I was working out and she plunked down on the machine right next to me. She had her earphones in but I kind of waved in front of her to get her attention. When she took her earphones I introduced myself. We talked for a bit and I asked her where she went to school because I had noticed her G-Burg shirt. She said she did go there. I told her that a bunch of my friends and one of my sisters went there and how much I liked the school. We talked for a couple of minutes, then I felt myself babbling. I decided to cut it short and said "nice to meet you, hope to see you around" and went back to my workout. I'd say the groundwork is laid.

I leave this afternoon for my ride, the route is 800 miles from Philly, and I have a few hundred more on top of that to get to and from Philly, so I'm looking at over a thousand miles in three days. My ass already hurts.

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Woops

Right after college I moved into this small apartment building on the shoreline. I had a decent job that paid well. I was in and out of Manhattan a few times a week working for a company that hosted crazy promotional parties once or twice a month. I was partying my ass off. I had little ambitions of home ownership, so I bought everything I desired. I had a big sailboat, a motorcycle, and plenty of cash in my pocket, life was good.

During this period I was usually casually dating at least three girls at a time. I could date one or two girls in NYC and a few girls at home, and since I was always on the go it was fairly easy to manage. As I have said before, I never lied about my relationships, but I suppose I was never 100% truthful. I was non-committal with everyone. At the first sign of a "what are we" conversation I would either explain that we are merely having fun together, or would cut the girl loose. There was always another girl waiting in the wings, there was just no reason to settle down.

There was another dude living in my building on my floor that led a similar lifestyle. Andy sold heart monitors and made a ton of loot. He had a couple of nice motorcycles, a speed boat, and did very well with the ladies. We became good friends. The only difference between Andy and I was about 12 years, he was much older than I.

Andy had a revolving door of women in his life, all of whom where gorgeous. At least once a week I would walk out of my apartment and some hottie would be doing the walk of shame from Andy's place. He had about three girls that were regulars, and I think he pulled down one or two randoms a week on top of that. They were mostly doctors, nurses or chicks he picked up at the Mexican restaurant down the street, but there was never a skank in the bunch. If we went out for dinner or drinks we almost never had a tab at the end of the night. He would say "Yeah, I'm good friends with so-and-so, the manager, she took care of it for us", which was Andy-ease for "Yeah, I'm banging the manager, we don't have to pay, I'll take care of her for us."

Despite what must have been an exhausting amount of fresh pussy, Andy always talked about two girls that he dated that he said he should have married. I would say "Andy, you ran half the women's US Olympic Gymnastic Team through your place last month, you're not exactly struggling to meet girls". Andy would shrug and say "Yeah, but the key is finding substance."

What's my point?

My point is that I have very low expectations of finding substance on the Internet. I think this whole exercise is generally a waste of resources, but it could be fun like the gymnastics team. My point is also that I am a little out of practice with juggling two or three girls at a time, and I am not sure I have the energy for it. As an example, I told one girl that I would call her last night to set up a time to get together, but I totally forgot. Woops. I am meeting the firecracker tonight for drinks, I can't remember if she sold real estate or was a flight attendant. I may have to use Outlook to keep all this strait, which is sad.

To finish the story on Andy, one night we went out bar hopping together downtown. We both had friends out and were jumping from bar to bar on our bikes. It was kind of a whirlwind night, but at one place we ended up playing pool with five Russian (actually, they were Lithuanian) exchange students. We hit a few more bars, then Andy said "I'm going to go find those Russian girls, you want to come with?", but I declined, I was working on a cougar at the bar we were in. Andy found the Russian girls and married one the following year. They bought a restaurant on the beach in Mexico and live there now with their daughter and dog.

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Kick it up a notch!

I had to borrow a line from Emeril Lagasse for this post because I think we're about to elevate to a new level of crazy dating adventures now that I have invited the Internet into my life.

Last week I was contacted by at least 40 woman of varying ages and backgrounds looking to "grab a drink sometime". I have limited online dating experience, but as I have mentioned, it was mostly bad. Thus, I am going to try and be very selective about who I meet up with in the future.

Tomorrow night is my first date. I am meeting up with this cute little 24-yo girl who seems like a real spitfire. We have a tentative plan to meet for a drink, but she has expressed an interest in a motorcycle ride, which I would be up for. I won't name these girls until the second date unless the first date goes very well or horribly wrong. In other words, I will probably name them all.

To summarize a few of my other Internet girlfriends (sarcasm here folks): I already have a stalker (who I also suspect had gastro-bypass surgery). I have one Italian girl who is really hot but looks high-maintenance. There is one chick with a shaved head. One girl that looks almost exactly like my ex, Kate. And finally one girl that is cute but very vanilla. There are more, but these are the noteworthy ones.

My weekend trip to the Hamptons was cancelled due to the lousy weather, but my motorcycle ride is still on for this weekend. I am not sure how the ride will play out. I know two of the four other guys going. The two I know are fairly crazy, so this trip has a good chance of becoming a really wild time. One guy is a DEA agent who will probably be armed to the teeth. I anticipate riding flat-out the whole weekend. I leave Thursday night to meet up with them at Delilah's, a strip club in Philly, for our pre-ride briefing.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Heavy Asian Girl

Last Monday my buddy D-Ron was telling me about all the girls he was meeting online, and I explained that I have had zero luck with that. I think it's a place for pedophiles and fat people to trawl for victims. He insisted that all I needed was a quick confidence boost and that the web was the way to go.

In response I plunked down something like $30 for an online membership. My rationale was that $30 is a nothing, so what can it hurt. Turns out plenty.

Within 24 hours of posting my profile I received an email from an Asian girl named Betsy. She had a really pretty face but the photos were either blurry or close-ups of her face, so a red flag was immediately raised that she must be "curvy". However, there was one photo that appeared to be of her in bed with not much on, which is always intriguing. I received a lot of other emails and strange online communications, but Betsy was the most forward and sent me her phone number, so I gave her a call.

We chatted for almost 45 minutes on the phone that night, and made plans to meet for drinks in Dupont on Thursday. She suggested some place that was "pet friendly" so she could bring her dog: second red flag. I suggested a human-only date, so we agreed on a place and time.

I showed up at the appointed time and no Betsy. Twenty minutes later I got a text from her saying she was en-route and would be a little late, to which I replied "You're already a little late. You will be very late. Already in trouble" I was kidding around since I really had nothing to lose. She responded "Yikes, Did I tell u I luv being tackled..." I have no idea what that means.

Besty finally showed up 45 minutes late, and she was a pretty big girl. She had really big boobs, but overall I would say she was overweight, there is no other way of putting it. I immediately ordered another drink (now my third). Betsy talked at me for the next two hours like she had just completed a solo balloon trip around the world and I was the first person she had seen in months. Blah blah blah blah. Does she have no other outlet? My head started to spin, first from the sound of her voice, then from the vodkas, which were catching up with me.

By 11:30 we were both feeling no pain and I was looking for a way out of this. I decided to call her bluff about the sexy bed photo "So, what was up with the lingerie pictures online" which prompted a 11 minutes dissertation on "tasteful" sensual photos. From that point on I only referred to her as Dirty Girl.

It may be useful at this point to walk a mile in Betsy's shoes. What must Betsy be thinking of me? I was well dressed, clean cut, punctual, and engaging. However, I clearly drank too much as the night (and her stories) wore on and became a little belligerent. My bad, things got a little carried away, which is unusual for me. I really was not enjoying myself and just wanted to leave. I suppose she would classify me as a "Crazy Guy in DC" story for her friends back home.

The night ended around midnight with a late-night snack of empanadas. I had driven to the metro so I abandoned my car and took a cab home. This was a mistake since I had hidden my keys in my gas cap (now you know my secret hiding spot) and had no way of getting into my house. I ended up crawling through my doggie door at 1am. Honestly, there are very few things more pathetic than a grown man crawling through a 1'x2' plastic hole. Thankfully my dog didn't think I was an intruder and maul me. In the morning I walked back and picked up my car.

I will not call Betsy, and I doubt I will hear from her again.

I'm leaving for the Hamptons on Thursday. I really don't like the Hamptons, but I like the people I am going with and am looking forward to it. I also need some time in the sand.

I saw GG last night running like crazy on the treadmill. She had on a sports bra and spandex "pants" that left almost nothing to the imagination. My blood pressure was stratospheric from work, so I was working out really hard. For my last set of dumbell presses I asked a guy for a spot, and he said "Aw, man, I'm just finishing up here" meaning he was getting ready to leave. I've never had someone say they wouldn't spot me, but he reluctantly agreed. I told him I was going for 4 reps, and started. He took up position next to me, which was very unusual, but since I already had the weights up there wasn't much I could do. I made four reps, then five, and was just letting the weights down to try for a sixth when he suddenly pulled the weight out of my right hand. With an 85 pound dumbell in my other hand I immediately fell off the bench to the left. The dumbell crashed to the floor with a deep THUD and I was now sitting on the floor between the weight and the bench. Great. I looked in a mirror and through a three-way reflection I saw GG staring in my direction slightly laughing. At least I got a laugh out of it. I'm not sure why, but I thanked the guy for the spot.

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

Various

I am nursing a nice sunburn this morning. I am pretty sure I am hungover as well, but the sunburn seems to be the more pressing concern at the moment. I am in that phase where my skin is on fire but I am freezing cold. The burn will turn to tan by tomorrow and I should be fine. More lotion please. "It puts the lotion on its skin or it gets the hose again. Put the fucking lotion in the basket bitch!" Sorry, a little Silence of the Lambs digression.

I took the day off and volunteered at a charity golf tournament yesterday. It was nice except for the oppressive heat and gnats swarming around my mouth and eyes for eight hours. However, it was still better than sitting in the office, which is sad.

The tournament was held at a course that was out in the boonies of VA. I volunteer every year and it's always a good time because the people are all very nice and it's a great cause. My assignment was to work on a long-drive contest hole this year, and my partner was a really cool girl, Kristi, who worked for one of the charities. Kristi was engaged, but she was tons of fun and made the day go by quickly.

At the end of the afternoon, while we were driving our cart back to the club house, Kristi said "So, I never even asked you, do you have a girlfriend?", I said no, "Oh, I have lots of hot single friends, want to be set up?". I agreed and we talked a little bit about what her friends were like. The downside was that they all live out by Dulles. I suppose the distance could have its advantages. I got Kristi's number and we said we would maybe get together with some of her friends for happy hour one night.

I saw Chuck and his wife this weekend, nothing was said about the Kay debacle, though it was confirmed that she will be out the beach house on the 4th. I think my plan will be to try and get together with her once before that weekend so it's not awkward. Not much else to report from the weekend. I went to a few bars Friday and Saturday night, very little talent around. I went out on the Potomac on a friends boat on Sunday where I received half of my sunburn.

I didn't see GG at the gym on Friday. Maybe she will be there this afternoon.

I'm going home this weekend for a bachelor party and a birthday party. I haven't been home since March so I am looking forward to it. I'm not a mama's boy, but I do like being fed constantly for a few days.

I haven't talked to Dee in months so I checked out her Facebook page to see what she's been up to. There was a recurring guy in a bunch of photos so I don't think I am going to call her. I won't be home for very long so I would rather not deal with any nonsense.

The following two weekends are going to be nuts. In two weeks I am heading to the Hamptons with the crew I went to South America with. Argentina and a few other people from Buenos Aires are coming with us. I am going to drive up to NYC Thursday night then we are all going to drive out to a rental house Friday. One of the NYC guys invested in a restaurant on the beach so we're going to spend the day there Saturday. I checked out the website and it's one of those pretentious Hamptons places where people wear white-linen suits and drink Champagne all afternoon. It is the perfect venue for us to descend upon and cause havoc.

The weekend after that some friends and I are going to ride bikes up to Canada for a few nights. All these guys ride choppers and huge Harleys, really comfortable bikes that they can cruise on for hours. I have sport bikes, which start to feel like torture racks after 3 hours. It should be an interesting trip. I sometimes have to race ahead so I can stop and rest while they catch up.

Friday, June 5, 2009

Blow to my ego

My ego took a big blow yesterday. Two, actually.

Strike 1:

I was busy in the office yesterday and really didn't feel like working out, but decided it was better than sitting on the couch. So I grabbed my gym bag and headed downstairs. As I walked into the gym I could see GG, sweaty as hell, standing at the water cooler. This was great because it meant that she had probably just finished up three hours on that damn treadmill and I might actually have an opportunity to talk to her.

I went into the locker room and quickly got changed. After I put on my shorts I noticed there was a white stain right in the front. I wore the shorts on Sunday to paint a white door and must have dripped some paint on them. I knew it was paint, but it looked like I had creamed my pants. I stood in the locker room for about 4 minutes trying to decide what to do. I finally decided no one would notice and walked into the gym.

GG was lifting weights, this was a perfect time to meet her. I walked up to the water cooler and said hello to Kelvin, the gay manager of our building who I know pretty well. The first thing out of Kelvin's mouth was "What's on your shorts!" I just stared at him and said "Kelvin, why are you looking at my fucking crotch?". This was not a good sign, the stain was obvious. Shit. I walked away.

I went over to the weight rack and grabbed two dumbbells. I stood really close to the rack and never turned around. My confidence was shot, I decided there was no way I was going to be able to talk to GG. After 15 minutes of pointless shoulder reps I went back to the locker room, showered, and left. A perfect opportunity was blown because I was too lazy to wear old shorts to paint.

Strike 2:

This one really stung. After weeks of deliberation I decided to ask out Kay. On Wednesday a VP in my office gave me two great tickets to the Nats game tonight (which will be rained out anyway) and I figured it was a good first date with Kay because she's very athletic and enjoys sports. I called Chuck and asked him to get Kay's number from his wife. An hour later he called me back with it and I was in business.

I waited until I got home to call Kay, I figured it was better than calling her while she was still at the office. Around 7pm I picked up my phone.

Now, I'm not bashful, and I'm on the phone all day long, so it's not like I am intimidated by calling people. But this was a little odd because I hadn't asked Kay for her number, so she wouldn't be expecting a call from me. Hell, I didn't even know if she would know who I was if I said my last name. However, the one thing that I had going for me was that most people don't answer calls from numbers they don't recognize. I figured she would see an unknown number and let it go to voicemail.

Here is the message I had mentally prepared:

"Hey, Kay, this is Notnuts, Chuck's buddy. I'm calling because I was just given two tickets to the Nats game tomorrow night and I wanted to see if you're free. I know it's last minute but I thought I would give it a shot. Give me a call back at ... Talk to you later, bye."

I walked out onto my deck where it was quiet, scrolled down to her number and hit send. Here is what happened:

Ring 1.
Ring 2. Ok, breath, no big deal
Ring 3. This is good, still ringing.
Ring 4. Nice. She's not answering, you should get voicemail soon. Relax.
Ring 5. "Hello?" Oh shit! Shit shit shit, she answered. Calm down stupid, say something.

NN: "Hey, Kay it's Notnuts (I said my full name) how are you"
Long pause.
K: "Good, how are you?" She doesn't know who you are.
NN: "I'm doing well, what are you up to?" Why didn't you say you're Chuck's buddy?
K: "Just finishing up work"
NN: Bye the way, this is Chuck's friend" Not now, too late! You're past that point!
K: "Yeah, I know"
NN: "Just wanted to make sure. I hope you don't mind, I got you're number from Chuck"
K: "No no problem."
NN: "The reason I'm calling is a guy in my office gave me two tickets to the Nats game tomorrow and I wanted to see if you're free if you wanted to go. I realize it's last minute, but I figured I would give it a shot."
K: "Oh, this sucks, I already have plans and can't break them." Hey, dumb-dumb, drop the phone on the ground, stomp it to pieces, and dive off my roof onto the sidewalk.
NN: "No problem, I completely understand, it's last minute." Great, it's raining now, maybe I'll get struck by lightening.
K: "I haven't even been to the stadium yet, I hear it's great."
NN: "Yeah, it's a great stadium. I get tickets fairly often, maybe another time." Get off the phone. Just hang up, you're babbling.
K: "I'd love to"
NN: "OK, I'll give you a call another time. Have a great weekend." Stop talking right now!
K: "You too."
NN: "Bye"
K: "Bye"

I walked back into the house, got a beer out of the fridge and flopped onto the couch.

What little confidence I had left was just flushed down the toilet. While I sat on the couch consoling myself with Budweiser I remembered that Kay and her roommate were coming to the house we rented the week of the 4th of July. "Ughhhhhhh! Maybe I'll just send them my $300 for the rental."

Thursday, June 4, 2009

I Love NYC

There are so many things I love about New York City. There just aren't many places in the world where you can get a Reuben at 3am, a Martini anytime of the day, and take home two beautiful girls on a Tuesday night. DC is just pale in comparison.

Monday night I had to go up to NYC for a few days for business. I took the train up, checked into my hotel and went directly to sleep. I put in a long day at the office Tuesday and cut out around 8 to meet up with some buddies for dinner. We ate at a place called Coffee Shop in Union Square, then had a few drinks at the bar. The place is CRAWLING with models and hot European women, it's fantastic. After the bar we went to some club in the Village.

We didn't go too crazy at the club because we all had to work the next morning, but we did chat up some girls and dance a bit. By 1am my friends were getting antsy to leave. They knew that if they were still out at 2am they would stay out all night and go directly to the office from the club, so my goal was to get them to 2am. I was dancing with two hot girls and a pack of wild dogs couldn't have chased me out of that bar. They kept tapping their watches and I just kept sending more drinks to them. Around 2am I looked up and they were gone. Oh well, these things happen.

The girls: The two girls I was dancing with we'll call Jane and Doe, their names are really not important as I am certain I will never see them again (at least not in person, maybe on the Internet). Jane was around 5'8", dirty blond hair, slim, with an overall nice body, and maybe 25 years old. Doe was shorter, maybe 5'3", also with blond hair and about 25 years old, but she was much curvier. They were both really cute but neither had much to say (not that we could hear anything over the eardrum-shattering bass).

I danced with the girls until about 3am. I had already written off work that day, I might as well enjoy myself. I told the girls that my friends had left and asked them if they wanted to share a cab home, which they agreed to. We left the bar and the three of us got into the back of a cab. They lived on the upper west side, and my hotel was on the east side, so I told the cabbie to drop them off first. When we got to their building Jane said "Why don't you come up for a drink?", don't need to ask me twice.

Their apartment was pretty small. It looked like they were sharing a one-bedroom place. The main room had an open floor plan. The living area had two couches and a big bank of windows on one wall. It looked like most apartments of people living in NYC when they are just getting started.

Doe went into the bathroom and Jane went into the fridge and pulled out three beers. So far I had only danced with the girls, so with Doe in the bathroom I started kissing Jane. This went on for a few minutes until Doe came out of the bathroom. We drank a few beers each, and finally around 4:30 Jane said "would you like to stay over?". Again, I'm not a hard sell. "Sounds good". This is where it got strange.

I started opening doors in the room looking for the bedroom. One door was a closet, another the bathroom, another closet, opps this one leads to the hallway, one more closet. The place was a studio! Jane said "what are you looking for?", "uh, nothing, just poking around, nice place." Meanwhile, the girls were removing the cushions from the couches, which both unfolded into beds. The couches were facing each other, so when unfolded they almost formed one long mattress, there was only about a 4 inch gap between the two. Doe jumped into one bed and Jane pointed for me to get into the other bed. OK, no problem. Jane turned out the lights then got under the covers with me.

Within a few minutes Jane was going down on me. All I could think was "this is nuts, what the hell is going on?". I heard a little movement from Doe, but I wasn't paying much attention to it. Jane reached into box on the ledge of the window, took out a condom, and put it on me. We started going at it, flopping around and changing positions. Long story short, I ended up on top of Jane facing Doe, who was now sitting on the edge of her bed with just a tank top on, legs spread open fingering herself like crazy. I reached out to help her but she swatted my hand away. Jane said "no, she just likes to watch." This scared me a bit, obviously I was not the first guy these two took home. Whatever, too late to sweat the small stuff.

Jane and I had sex three times over the next two hours. Doe watched the whole time, alternating between a vibrator and her fingers. We all fell asleep but I woke up as the sun started to shine through the huge windows at 6:30am (get some shades, will you). I decided to get out of there as quietly as I could. I found my pants, my shoes, and my t-shirt, but didn't see my shirt, tie, or boxers anywhere. I poked around a bit and found my tie in the kitchen. I decided to abandon the rest of my clothes and just get out of there. I started opening doors, but couldn't remember which one went to the hallway. The place was like a fun house, honestly, get rid of a couple of closets and make a proper bedroom. The door out was right next to Doe's head, so I quietly unlocked and opened the door. With the light from the hallway coming in I was able to spot my shirt a few feet away. I held the door open a crack with my foot and reached for the shirt. When I lifted it up I saw that it was on top of an old-school VHS camera, one that holds a full size VHS tape. The camera was on and pointed towards the bed. The spot where the tape goes was open but empty.

Whatever, I grabbed my shirt and left. The door kind of slammed behind me so instead of waiting for the elevator I walked (OK, I ran) down the 6 flights to the lobby. I hailed a cab and went back to my hotel.

In retrospect I am pretty sure I would have noticed that camera in the tiny apartment when I got there, but I suppose there is a slight chance I didn't see it. If it was there already it could just be a coincidence. If it wasn't there when we got home then Doe set it up. Either way, I think it's a safe assumption those two freaky chicks taped the whole night. Hopefully I won't end up on some porn site.

Monday, June 1, 2009

One hitter or a BJ

First decent weekend in a while.

Friday night I was supposed to meet some friends out for a concert but tapped out due to a grueling Friday afternoon at work. Plus, I had tickets to an ADBF (all-day booze fest) Saturday morning and I didn't want to be hung over for that.

The ADBF was an alumni event and turned out to be a blast. About 2,000 people showed up for an all-you-can-eat and all-you-can-drink party at a Virginia State Park. A group of ten of us showed up around noon and quickly made friends with the girls running the beer booth. Most of my buddies and I had dressed in wild outfits so we were easily distinguished in the crowd and were given preferential treatment by all the bartenders. As the day wore on one of the bartenders took a liking to me and I didn't even have to wait in line, she would just wave me over to the side of the booth and hand me four full beers.

By five in the afternoon I was feeling no-pain and my beer runs became more frequent. On one trip the bartender whispered in my ear "let me know if you want my one-hitter, or a blowjob" (for the Catholic school kids in the crowd a one-hitter is a small bowl you take a single hit of pot from. I trust everyone knows what a blowjob is.). She said it so fast that it took me a second to decipher. Once I did, though, I just stood there like a deer in headlights, slightly stunned by how blunt she was. She was not the cutest girl at the party, but I said I might take her up on that later. If she was going to be forward I thought I could do the same.

There was a band at the event so I danced with a bunch of girls for a while. I was interested in one cutie with really short hair, but after bumping and grinding with her for half an hour her boyfriend (whom I obviously didn't know about) had had enough and dragged her off the dance floor. Too bad, she was really sexy.

I decided not to take the bartender up on either of her offers. After the party we went to Red Rocks in Columbia Heights and stuffed our faces with pizza, it was exactly what I needed.

Last night my buddy Chuck's wife called and invited me to dinner. I showed up and Kay (again, she's a friend's ex) and another girl were there as well. This was the first time that I talked to her beyond just normal party banter. I like her, she's interesting. The thing that stuck out the most is that nothing felt forced, she is very easy to talk to. I still have misgivings about taking her out on a date, so I gave her a hug at the end of the night and that was it. Actually, one more thing. Chuck's house has a catwalk on the second floor that leads to an upstairs bathroom. I was standing in the kitchen below the catwalk as Kay went to the bathroom. I didn't know anyone was upstairs, so when I heard a noise above me I looked up, and there was Kay almost directly above me with nothing but a short sun dress on. I felt like a perv and immediately looked down at my feet. I think Chuck saw what happened, though.

A group of us rented a house on the beach for the week of the 4th of July, and Kay is going to be there, which should be interesting.

Bear texted me last night out of the blue. Aside from a few comments from her on my Facebook page, I haven't talked to her since January. She asked me some trivial question about a store I shop at. It was something she couldn't easily look up online, so I'm not sure what her story is. I haven't texted her back yet.