My tenant in the unit below mine moved out today, and my new tenant is moving in tomorrow afternoon, so I had to do the final walk-through with her today.
This situation was a little unusual because this girl was subletting the apartment from her friend, who was actually my tenant and the person on the lease. She has been living here for a month and I have never met her until today. Her name is Halley, and she really wasn't anything special. I was curious because I have heard her a few times, but had never put a face to the voice.
I came home from work and did my usual spin through the apartment checking appliances and looking for damage. Halley is chatty and felt the need to talk the entire time I checked the place. Finally she said "Wow, that's a really cool motorcycle outside", I looked out the window and there was a Japanese cruiser sitting on the street in front of my place. I said "Yeah, it's nice.", which was a lie, I didn't like it at all, but I didn't want to provoke her into more senseless small talk. "How long have you had it?", she said. I was a little confused, "Actually, it's not mine". I've never seen her in my driveway or back yard, so I wasn't sure why she would think that bike was mine. As usual, my face betrayed me and clearly showed a combination of confusion and disgust. "I heard you and your girlfriend come home on a bike a couple of weeks ago, and just assumed that was it".
Ahhhh, it's all coming together now. My "girlfriend" that she's referring to is Kay, and the night in question is the lobster dinner night. At one point early in the night I thought I heard her downstairs, but this confirmed it. The sex with Kay was fairly "energetic" (though not too crazy) and she must have heard the whole event. I wonder if she heard "Wait, something's not right!" comment?
I simply nodded and then walked into the kitchen and returned to my walk-through. It was a little uncomfortable for a second.
I talked to Kay last night, she asked me if I was avoiding her. I felt a little badly, after talking to her I didn't get the impression she was anything other than really busy at work. I'm going to try to meet up with her at some point this weekend.
Lastly, Bear sent me a text last night saying she regretted not letting me take her home on my new bike the other night. I told her that was a one-time offer and that there were no rain-checks. Of course I will give her a ride next time she asks.
Friday, July 31, 2009
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Clear the old mellon.
I had a long day of travel yesterday to clear my head. I went and visited a few of my buildings and was so busy that I didn't have time to think of anything but work. Once in a while this isn't a bad thing. I got home from Baltimore around 4pm and took the hound for a long walk around the Capitol, it must have been 3 miles round trip, which I considered pretty good in the heat. I ate some take-out, took a long soak in the hot tub, and then put in a big wad of chewing tobacco (we all have our vices) while I read on my deck (book was The Night of the Gun, good story, check it out). It was all very cathartic.
At some point during the night I realized that my cell phone wasn't in my pocket like I thought it was, so I looked around and found it sitting on the counter in the kitchen with several missed calls and text messages. A few people were trying to track me down, and I had a message from Kay. The message was a bit rambling, but she apologized for taking a while to call me back and explained she is getting slammed at work. She must have used the word "um" 12 times in a 30 second span. For anyone who has ever given a public speech you know that "um" is a filler word that you use when you're nervous and aren't sure what to say. I'm not sure why she was nervous. At the end of the message she asked me to call her back or said she would try me again tonight.
I didn't return the call last night, and I will wait and see if I hear from her tonight.
I rarely mention work here because it's not usually relevant, but I am in the midst of several lease negotiations and they are the most grueling I have ever been involved in. They all include huge construction jobs that I will manage, and I am rapidly losing my marbles. To compound matters, I am also trying to buy another house in the city as an investment. This too will required a gut-renovation, take the house down to the brick and studs, and start over.
The reason I bring this up is because I am stressed and not myself lately. I'm trying to keep my head clear, but as you can see from the dream I mentioned a few posts ago, I'm obviously not doing a great job.
I have one of my best friends from high school coming in tonight for the weekend. Crack-Ho, or C-Rock, as we fondly call him, is sure to lighten up the mood in the house over the next few days. C-Rock has lost a little off his fast ball since getting married and having a kid, but I still anticipate mayhem. FYI, neither nicknames refer to drug use, they are a play on the little guinea-dago-wop's last name.
At some point during the night I realized that my cell phone wasn't in my pocket like I thought it was, so I looked around and found it sitting on the counter in the kitchen with several missed calls and text messages. A few people were trying to track me down, and I had a message from Kay. The message was a bit rambling, but she apologized for taking a while to call me back and explained she is getting slammed at work. She must have used the word "um" 12 times in a 30 second span. For anyone who has ever given a public speech you know that "um" is a filler word that you use when you're nervous and aren't sure what to say. I'm not sure why she was nervous. At the end of the message she asked me to call her back or said she would try me again tonight.
I didn't return the call last night, and I will wait and see if I hear from her tonight.
I rarely mention work here because it's not usually relevant, but I am in the midst of several lease negotiations and they are the most grueling I have ever been involved in. They all include huge construction jobs that I will manage, and I am rapidly losing my marbles. To compound matters, I am also trying to buy another house in the city as an investment. This too will required a gut-renovation, take the house down to the brick and studs, and start over.
The reason I bring this up is because I am stressed and not myself lately. I'm trying to keep my head clear, but as you can see from the dream I mentioned a few posts ago, I'm obviously not doing a great job.
I have one of my best friends from high school coming in tonight for the weekend. Crack-Ho, or C-Rock, as we fondly call him, is sure to lighten up the mood in the house over the next few days. C-Rock has lost a little off his fast ball since getting married and having a kid, but I still anticipate mayhem. FYI, neither nicknames refer to drug use, they are a play on the little guinea-dago-wop's last name.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Whose calls you take.
"You can tell a person's priorities by the calls they take."
I am paraphrasing here, but I think you get the gist. I believe this is a quote from a movie, though I am not certain. Regardless of where it's from, I have always thought it was a very accurate statement. For instance, unless I am in a great mood I usually let calls from my mom go right to voicemail. My boss's calls get answered on the second ring. Hostile girlfriends, voicemail. New girls on the scene I usually answer unless I'm trying to "play it cool". I always answer my tenants' calls, but numbers I don't recognize never get answered.
Obviously the impetus behind this topic is that I am not getting the feeling I am high on Kay's priority list. I leave a message and I get a call or text back a day later. I am generally the one initiating contact, too. This is all new turf for me and is really throwing me off.
In everything I do in life I throw myself in 100%, "quitting" is not part of my lexicon. I am fiercely competitive, often to a fault. But with women I have always had the stance that I don't like to compete with other guys for a girl. This is the one area where I generally am not interested in fighting (either literally or figuratively). I feel that if you reduce yourself to really fighting for the affection of a woman there will never be equality in the relationship. She will always have, and know she has, the upper hand. I don't know if this is true, perhaps it is only my perception.
I suppose the devil's advocate would say that I am unwilling to take chances in a relationship. Perhaps it is a self-preservation mechanism. As we all know, in investing the return is proportional to the risk. Low risk, low return. High risk, high return. In that regard my risk aversion will always yield low relationship returns.
I am not sure what I am going to do. However, I am leaning towards pulling the e-brake with Kay. I'm not interested in games, despite thinking she's a great girl (high return, I suppose).
I am paraphrasing here, but I think you get the gist. I believe this is a quote from a movie, though I am not certain. Regardless of where it's from, I have always thought it was a very accurate statement. For instance, unless I am in a great mood I usually let calls from my mom go right to voicemail. My boss's calls get answered on the second ring. Hostile girlfriends, voicemail. New girls on the scene I usually answer unless I'm trying to "play it cool". I always answer my tenants' calls, but numbers I don't recognize never get answered.
Obviously the impetus behind this topic is that I am not getting the feeling I am high on Kay's priority list. I leave a message and I get a call or text back a day later. I am generally the one initiating contact, too. This is all new turf for me and is really throwing me off.
In everything I do in life I throw myself in 100%, "quitting" is not part of my lexicon. I am fiercely competitive, often to a fault. But with women I have always had the stance that I don't like to compete with other guys for a girl. This is the one area where I generally am not interested in fighting (either literally or figuratively). I feel that if you reduce yourself to really fighting for the affection of a woman there will never be equality in the relationship. She will always have, and know she has, the upper hand. I don't know if this is true, perhaps it is only my perception.
I suppose the devil's advocate would say that I am unwilling to take chances in a relationship. Perhaps it is a self-preservation mechanism. As we all know, in investing the return is proportional to the risk. Low risk, low return. High risk, high return. In that regard my risk aversion will always yield low relationship returns.
I am not sure what I am going to do. However, I am leaning towards pulling the e-brake with Kay. I'm not interested in games, despite thinking she's a great girl (high return, I suppose).
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
A shrinks best customer
Last night I was emptying the dish washer in my kitchen. The lights were off and it became unbearably hot in the room when I opened the dishwasher and the steam poured out into my face. I emptied the bottom rack then started on the top rack. I stacked a few glasses on the countertop, but when I got to one of the big wine glasses I held it to my mouth and took a huge bite out of it. I decided not to chew the glass, instead I spit it out into the sink and threw the glass in the garbage pail. I was surprised to find that my mouth didn't bleed at all. I decided to give a small water glass a taste, but found the glass was too thick and was not able to remove a satisfying chunk. The glass just cracked, shooting tiny splinters everywhere. I spit those out and threw out that glass as well. Still no blood. I was happy when I came to another wine glass and took two hearty bites from it. I chewed both bites for a long time, but in the end decided to spit them out, I didn't think shards of glass would help my growing indegestion. After I spit out the second mouthful I sensed the taste of blood, and wiped my mouth with my forearm. Of course there was a huge amount of blood on my arm, and I could feel it trickling down my chin, too. I looked in the sink and was surprised by how much blood was in there. I spit a huge wad of blood into the sink and heard something in the room. I looked to my left and a man said "What the hell did you expect?". I squinted and realized it was Bob Barker, the host of The Price Is Right.
I woke up to my cell phone beeping, telling me the battery needed to be charged. I plugged in the phone and looked at the clock, it was 4am. Fuck, I was up every two hours last night, work is stressing me out. That was the wierdest dream I can ever remember.
I laid in bed and thought about the dream, then realized what it was about.
One night at a hotel frat party this guy I know took a huge bite out of a glass and chewed away. This guy, Gary, was a great dude, though clearly nuts. Earlier in the evening he stood naked in the center of the hotel room, took a shit in his hand and smeared it all over his chest. Several people, including Gary, vomited from the smell. Despite an undisputable crazy streak, Gary was also a very successful college wrestler, and an all-around great friend. After two bites of glass he was taken to the ER for many painful stitches. Two years later, after an all-nighter at a bar, Gary lay passed out in the front seat of a Toyota pick-up truck while his good friend and wrestling teammate drove it off the road and into a tree, killing Gary instantly. The driver lived and spent three years in jail for manslaughter.
A shrink would be able to base his whole career on this material and retire a wealthy man. Wow, I'm freaked out.
I got an email from Kay a little while ago. She said that she was pretty busy this week, but may be able to get together tomorrow or this weekend. I'm not getting a great vibe from her, though I know she's really busy at work. I'm not sure what I'm going to do with that situation, but it is probably not helping my REM sleep.
I woke up to my cell phone beeping, telling me the battery needed to be charged. I plugged in the phone and looked at the clock, it was 4am. Fuck, I was up every two hours last night, work is stressing me out. That was the wierdest dream I can ever remember.
I laid in bed and thought about the dream, then realized what it was about.
One night at a hotel frat party this guy I know took a huge bite out of a glass and chewed away. This guy, Gary, was a great dude, though clearly nuts. Earlier in the evening he stood naked in the center of the hotel room, took a shit in his hand and smeared it all over his chest. Several people, including Gary, vomited from the smell. Despite an undisputable crazy streak, Gary was also a very successful college wrestler, and an all-around great friend. After two bites of glass he was taken to the ER for many painful stitches. Two years later, after an all-nighter at a bar, Gary lay passed out in the front seat of a Toyota pick-up truck while his good friend and wrestling teammate drove it off the road and into a tree, killing Gary instantly. The driver lived and spent three years in jail for manslaughter.
A shrink would be able to base his whole career on this material and retire a wealthy man. Wow, I'm freaked out.
I got an email from Kay a little while ago. She said that she was pretty busy this week, but may be able to get together tomorrow or this weekend. I'm not getting a great vibe from her, though I know she's really busy at work. I'm not sure what I'm going to do with that situation, but it is probably not helping my REM sleep.
Monday, July 27, 2009
To cheat or not to cheat?
It seemed like everywhere I went this weekend I was confronted by some sort of relationship deception. The timing was interesting because I thought about Kay a lot this weekend and what my intentions are.
Friday night I met my sister and her friend out for drinks in Georgetown. The friend, Briana, is young, just 21, and living in DC with her sister for the summer. Though young, Briana was very mature and a lot of fun to hang out with. We played pool at the bar and flirted and eventually decided to meet up the next afternoon for a motorcycle ride. Briana mentioned that she had a boyfriend, but that it wasn't serious. My sister would later tell me that Briana has been dating the dude for three years, which sounds semi-serious to me. I would not be happy if my girlfriend of three years went out on some random dude's bike. In the end we were both too hung over to ride Saturday, but she asked for a rain check.
Saturday night I met up with Randy, who is one of my good friends from college and was in town for the weekend with his wife. Randy is a smart, successful guy and the ladies love him, but that seems to be his downfall. If women were drugs (and let's face it, they basically are), Randy would be a full-blown addict. I've known Randy and his (doctor) wife for a very long time, but in all the years I have never known him to be faithful to her and it bothers me.
After a few drinks Saturday night Randy told me about some douche-bag in Texas he has been having a relationship with for the past year. He met this girl (let's call her DB) while traveling on business. DB is married with two kids, and as far as I'm concerned the only thing that DB has going for her are her body and her looks. She uneducated, and clearly conniving.
The situation is that DB was trying to talk Randy into leaving his wife for her. DB had separated from her husband and wanted to be with Randy, and much to my surprise, he was actually considering it. However, he came to his senses when he found out that DB was fucking some other guy at the same time. It wasn't until then that he felt the pain that he has been causing his wife this whole time (she knew about some of his affairs).
The final aspect of my weekend that rounded off the deception theme is that I met up with Bear last night. We had been emailing each other for a few days and we planned on meeting up. Bear really likes my dog, so she asked if we could take the dog for a walk last night. In typical crazy Bear fashion she showed up in a tiny little skirt (it was so short I couldn't NOT see her underwear, it was very uncomfortable) and pump heels. Not exactly dog-walking attire, but that is pretty much normal for her. I think Bear is/was dating some guy, and if she still is he probably wouldn't have been too excited about her hanging out at her ex's house in a skirt the size of a headband.
We walked the dog and had a beer back at my house. She looked really good, and of course I would have slept with her in a second, but neither of us made any moves and she left around 11pm after a hug.
So, now onto Kay. As I said, I thought about her a lot this weekend. I talked to Kay on Thursday night and she told me that despite some tough deadlines at work she was going to NYC with some girlfriends for the weekend. After I got off the phone with Kay I thought about two things: what is it about her that I like, and what is my plan.
It is necessary to note that I have not had a girl break up with me in nearly nine years, I have done all the dumping in that time. I have also been told several dozen times by many different women that they never know where they stand with me, that I am always a little distant, or aloof. They say that I am affectionate, but there is always a sense that I could leave them at any point. I would say that these things are all fairly true assessments.
As I thought about Kay it occurred to me that she acts a lot like I usually do. When we're together she's 100% there, and seems very into me. However, I don't hear much from her during the week, and I feel like I am always the one doing the chasing. I suppose this may partially be the reason I am so interested in her, we always want what we can't have.
After talking with Kay on Thursday night I decided that I wasn't going to call, email, or text her over the weekend. We left it that we would get together this week sometime, and I wanted to give her a little space. My normal dating instincts seemed to have worked well in the past, so why change the formula. However, I began to question myself. If my instinct is to send her a text message to say hello, than isn't that what I should do? Is that what I would normally do, or is that just what I want to do because I like this girl more than normal? I suppose it's like the philosophical question "If a tree falls in the forest, does it make a sound?", you can ponder and debate this all day long, but you can never answer the question.
The question now is how long do I wait before I contact her? I am going to try and hold out today and see if she calls me.
Friday night I met my sister and her friend out for drinks in Georgetown. The friend, Briana, is young, just 21, and living in DC with her sister for the summer. Though young, Briana was very mature and a lot of fun to hang out with. We played pool at the bar and flirted and eventually decided to meet up the next afternoon for a motorcycle ride. Briana mentioned that she had a boyfriend, but that it wasn't serious. My sister would later tell me that Briana has been dating the dude for three years, which sounds semi-serious to me. I would not be happy if my girlfriend of three years went out on some random dude's bike. In the end we were both too hung over to ride Saturday, but she asked for a rain check.
Saturday night I met up with Randy, who is one of my good friends from college and was in town for the weekend with his wife. Randy is a smart, successful guy and the ladies love him, but that seems to be his downfall. If women were drugs (and let's face it, they basically are), Randy would be a full-blown addict. I've known Randy and his (doctor) wife for a very long time, but in all the years I have never known him to be faithful to her and it bothers me.
After a few drinks Saturday night Randy told me about some douche-bag in Texas he has been having a relationship with for the past year. He met this girl (let's call her DB) while traveling on business. DB is married with two kids, and as far as I'm concerned the only thing that DB has going for her are her body and her looks. She uneducated, and clearly conniving.
The situation is that DB was trying to talk Randy into leaving his wife for her. DB had separated from her husband and wanted to be with Randy, and much to my surprise, he was actually considering it. However, he came to his senses when he found out that DB was fucking some other guy at the same time. It wasn't until then that he felt the pain that he has been causing his wife this whole time (she knew about some of his affairs).
The final aspect of my weekend that rounded off the deception theme is that I met up with Bear last night. We had been emailing each other for a few days and we planned on meeting up. Bear really likes my dog, so she asked if we could take the dog for a walk last night. In typical crazy Bear fashion she showed up in a tiny little skirt (it was so short I couldn't NOT see her underwear, it was very uncomfortable) and pump heels. Not exactly dog-walking attire, but that is pretty much normal for her. I think Bear is/was dating some guy, and if she still is he probably wouldn't have been too excited about her hanging out at her ex's house in a skirt the size of a headband.
We walked the dog and had a beer back at my house. She looked really good, and of course I would have slept with her in a second, but neither of us made any moves and she left around 11pm after a hug.
So, now onto Kay. As I said, I thought about her a lot this weekend. I talked to Kay on Thursday night and she told me that despite some tough deadlines at work she was going to NYC with some girlfriends for the weekend. After I got off the phone with Kay I thought about two things: what is it about her that I like, and what is my plan.
It is necessary to note that I have not had a girl break up with me in nearly nine years, I have done all the dumping in that time. I have also been told several dozen times by many different women that they never know where they stand with me, that I am always a little distant, or aloof. They say that I am affectionate, but there is always a sense that I could leave them at any point. I would say that these things are all fairly true assessments.
As I thought about Kay it occurred to me that she acts a lot like I usually do. When we're together she's 100% there, and seems very into me. However, I don't hear much from her during the week, and I feel like I am always the one doing the chasing. I suppose this may partially be the reason I am so interested in her, we always want what we can't have.
After talking with Kay on Thursday night I decided that I wasn't going to call, email, or text her over the weekend. We left it that we would get together this week sometime, and I wanted to give her a little space. My normal dating instincts seemed to have worked well in the past, so why change the formula. However, I began to question myself. If my instinct is to send her a text message to say hello, than isn't that what I should do? Is that what I would normally do, or is that just what I want to do because I like this girl more than normal? I suppose it's like the philosophical question "If a tree falls in the forest, does it make a sound?", you can ponder and debate this all day long, but you can never answer the question.
The question now is how long do I wait before I contact her? I am going to try and hold out today and see if she calls me.
Friday, July 24, 2009
Can't judge a book by it's cover.
I am constantly amazed by women's sexual quirks. I think it's nearly impossible to look at a girl and tell what kind of shenanigans she's into in bed. They say your sexual preferences are formed early in life. I often find myself wondering during sex "What kind of childhood did this girl have that she's asking me to do this?". Below are just a few things that I have come across that have either confused me, scared me or turned me on.
I had one girl that had an anal fetish. She loved to have anal sex, but she also had an assortment of anal beads and butt plugs that she liked to have put in her ass then pulled out just as she came. On a scale of 1-10, 10 being totally bat-shit nuts, this is probably a 2. What was really crazy about this girl is that she used to like to drive to really bad or crowded areas and have sex in the car. We would park in shopping center lots, or at busy restaurants, and have sex in the back seat. Or she would take me to these abandoned warehouses in what looked like demilitarized zones (I have no idea how she even found them) and have me park in the loading docks or some other area. She would open the back door, stand and lean over the back seat and want to be nailed from behind, sometimes anally. I would be standing in the parking lot with my pants down scared shitless. Maybe that was the point, I never really got it, but I indulged her.
One girl who "cooo'd" and made baby noises during sex, it was very distracting.
I mentioned the Polish girl who the first time we had sex slapped my ass so had that I thought she dislocated my hip.
When I was 16 I dated a girl that was a year younger than me who used to like to have sex on the lawn in peoples backyards. It was her favorite. Also, one afternoon I stopped by her (parent's) house and hadn't told her I was coming by. When I walked in the house she was wearing just a little silk robe and was vacuuming the living room. She didn't hear me come in, so I snuck up behind her and took her from behind on the couch. She never turned around and never saw it was me until we had both cum. For a long time after that she would arrange similar scenarios.
My ex that I dated until I moved to DC was a dirty talker. She said the nastiest things during sex. What is ironic is that she read constantly, and had a great vocabulary, so sometimes she would say really dirty things, but there would be words in the sentence that I had never even heard before. Often I wasn't even sure they were English. I made mental notes and afterwards I would sneak into her office and look them up in the dictionary. This girl was totally fucked in the head, she liked to be mildly tortured. Candle wax and spanking were routine. Knives, handcuffs and blindfolds were scattered all over the house. One night she asked me to cum in a glass of red wine so she could drink it. How do you even dream that up? She also really enjoyed having sex is public restrooms, usually in clubs and restaurants. By far the craziest thing about this girl, and the reason I broke up with her the first time (there were three breakups) is that one day while using her computer I saw a file on her desktop with my initials. I opened the file and inside were a dozen pictures of me stark naked and asleep in her bed. A few were just close-ups of my dick.
One night I met a girl at a bar on the Jersey Shore and we had sex on the beach in front of my house. We then took a shower in the outdoor shower and she asked me to pee on her. I obliged, but I never understood that one. I think that's something you're either into or you're not. It's not the type of thing that you grow to like.
Bear has some of the more unusual sexual preferences. She was really into domination with a strong helping of pain worked into it. She always wanted to be spanked, but not play spanking. When it was over she wanted a bright red ass and to not be able to sit afterwards. She loved to have her hair pulled and her nipples to be pinched super hard. I considered using pliers once after I found that I was pinching them as hard as I could and she was asking for more. However, her favorite seemed to be being choked during sex, which I believe is called "erotic asphyxiation". This is scary because people routinely die because they take it just a bit too far. She liked anal, and maybe even preferred it to vaginal sex. Bear also had very specific requests. For instance, one night at her place she said "I want to put on a corset and a tiny skirt. I want to be on top, facing away from you, and I want you to spank my ass." Requests like these were common and I never questioned the background on them. Frankly, I was generally too afraid of what the answer might be.
I dated a girl from Texas for a short time who was very beautiful but very vain. She loved to watch herself in the mirror during sex. I think that if she could just fuck herself she would have had no need for men.
I've had many screamers, girls who would just yell their fucking heads off during sex. Sometimes it was a show, but often it's genuine. There is just so much of that I can take, though. Really, I have neighbors, I can't have them thinking that I'm killing women at my place.
In college I dated a girl for a short time who looked innocent as could be. She was a tiny little blond girl, super smart, very pretty and soft spoken. However, she was mean in bed. Her game was that she would berate you until you could just not take it anymore. You would want to punch her out (which I never did, but I think that was what she was seeking out). When I reached my breaking point I would tie her up, blindfold and gag her, then leave the room, sometimes for hours. I would throw on a pair of shorts and go downstairs and watch TV with my roommates. One night she asked me to tie her up and balance a candle on her stomach. In retrospect this was INCREDIBLY dangerous because she wanted it on her when I left the room. What if it tipped over and the sheets caught fire?! I only did that once, but when I finally came back and took it off her she begged me for sex and came harder than I ever saw her cum before.
Sometimes it's the little things. It can be that a girl is very reserved looking and want you to cum on her face or in her hair. I had a girl ask me to cum on her nipples then liked it off herself (she had big boobs).
If you really want to see the deep, dark recesses of someones mind look at their porn collection. I had a friend with benefits that used to like watching porn when we had sex. But her porn was ultra-hardcore and was mostly inter-racial (she was Indian). One girl had a lot of "rape" porn. That was scary, but I have been with a few girls who are into mock-rapes. That actually REALLY freaks me out.
One ex used to like to have sex in her parent's house during summer picnics and family parties. Her dad was crazy and could crush my nuts into a million pieces, so I was usually terrified during those sessions. Come to think of it, there are quiet a few girls who found pleasure in scaring me.
Some girls feel sexier wearing lingerie, or dressing up a little slutty during or just before sex. Actually, I think this is one of the reason it is so easy to get laid on Halloween. One afternoon I was framing a new closet in my house and my girlfriend stopped by to drop off lunch for me. She was on her way to a bridal shower and was all dressed up. She walked in the house and when she saw me in jeans, a torn shirt, and wearing my tool belt she basically just started shedding her clothes. After that I get really nervous when repairmen would have to go to her house to fix things.
There you have it, that's some of the crazier things I have come across.
I had one girl that had an anal fetish. She loved to have anal sex, but she also had an assortment of anal beads and butt plugs that she liked to have put in her ass then pulled out just as she came. On a scale of 1-10, 10 being totally bat-shit nuts, this is probably a 2. What was really crazy about this girl is that she used to like to drive to really bad or crowded areas and have sex in the car. We would park in shopping center lots, or at busy restaurants, and have sex in the back seat. Or she would take me to these abandoned warehouses in what looked like demilitarized zones (I have no idea how she even found them) and have me park in the loading docks or some other area. She would open the back door, stand and lean over the back seat and want to be nailed from behind, sometimes anally. I would be standing in the parking lot with my pants down scared shitless. Maybe that was the point, I never really got it, but I indulged her.
One girl who "cooo'd" and made baby noises during sex, it was very distracting.
I mentioned the Polish girl who the first time we had sex slapped my ass so had that I thought she dislocated my hip.
When I was 16 I dated a girl that was a year younger than me who used to like to have sex on the lawn in peoples backyards. It was her favorite. Also, one afternoon I stopped by her (parent's) house and hadn't told her I was coming by. When I walked in the house she was wearing just a little silk robe and was vacuuming the living room. She didn't hear me come in, so I snuck up behind her and took her from behind on the couch. She never turned around and never saw it was me until we had both cum. For a long time after that she would arrange similar scenarios.
My ex that I dated until I moved to DC was a dirty talker. She said the nastiest things during sex. What is ironic is that she read constantly, and had a great vocabulary, so sometimes she would say really dirty things, but there would be words in the sentence that I had never even heard before. Often I wasn't even sure they were English. I made mental notes and afterwards I would sneak into her office and look them up in the dictionary. This girl was totally fucked in the head, she liked to be mildly tortured. Candle wax and spanking were routine. Knives, handcuffs and blindfolds were scattered all over the house. One night she asked me to cum in a glass of red wine so she could drink it. How do you even dream that up? She also really enjoyed having sex is public restrooms, usually in clubs and restaurants. By far the craziest thing about this girl, and the reason I broke up with her the first time (there were three breakups) is that one day while using her computer I saw a file on her desktop with my initials. I opened the file and inside were a dozen pictures of me stark naked and asleep in her bed. A few were just close-ups of my dick.
One night I met a girl at a bar on the Jersey Shore and we had sex on the beach in front of my house. We then took a shower in the outdoor shower and she asked me to pee on her. I obliged, but I never understood that one. I think that's something you're either into or you're not. It's not the type of thing that you grow to like.
Bear has some of the more unusual sexual preferences. She was really into domination with a strong helping of pain worked into it. She always wanted to be spanked, but not play spanking. When it was over she wanted a bright red ass and to not be able to sit afterwards. She loved to have her hair pulled and her nipples to be pinched super hard. I considered using pliers once after I found that I was pinching them as hard as I could and she was asking for more. However, her favorite seemed to be being choked during sex, which I believe is called "erotic asphyxiation". This is scary because people routinely die because they take it just a bit too far. She liked anal, and maybe even preferred it to vaginal sex. Bear also had very specific requests. For instance, one night at her place she said "I want to put on a corset and a tiny skirt. I want to be on top, facing away from you, and I want you to spank my ass." Requests like these were common and I never questioned the background on them. Frankly, I was generally too afraid of what the answer might be.
I dated a girl from Texas for a short time who was very beautiful but very vain. She loved to watch herself in the mirror during sex. I think that if she could just fuck herself she would have had no need for men.
I've had many screamers, girls who would just yell their fucking heads off during sex. Sometimes it was a show, but often it's genuine. There is just so much of that I can take, though. Really, I have neighbors, I can't have them thinking that I'm killing women at my place.
In college I dated a girl for a short time who looked innocent as could be. She was a tiny little blond girl, super smart, very pretty and soft spoken. However, she was mean in bed. Her game was that she would berate you until you could just not take it anymore. You would want to punch her out (which I never did, but I think that was what she was seeking out). When I reached my breaking point I would tie her up, blindfold and gag her, then leave the room, sometimes for hours. I would throw on a pair of shorts and go downstairs and watch TV with my roommates. One night she asked me to tie her up and balance a candle on her stomach. In retrospect this was INCREDIBLY dangerous because she wanted it on her when I left the room. What if it tipped over and the sheets caught fire?! I only did that once, but when I finally came back and took it off her she begged me for sex and came harder than I ever saw her cum before.
Sometimes it's the little things. It can be that a girl is very reserved looking and want you to cum on her face or in her hair. I had a girl ask me to cum on her nipples then liked it off herself (she had big boobs).
If you really want to see the deep, dark recesses of someones mind look at their porn collection. I had a friend with benefits that used to like watching porn when we had sex. But her porn was ultra-hardcore and was mostly inter-racial (she was Indian). One girl had a lot of "rape" porn. That was scary, but I have been with a few girls who are into mock-rapes. That actually REALLY freaks me out.
One ex used to like to have sex in her parent's house during summer picnics and family parties. Her dad was crazy and could crush my nuts into a million pieces, so I was usually terrified during those sessions. Come to think of it, there are quiet a few girls who found pleasure in scaring me.
Some girls feel sexier wearing lingerie, or dressing up a little slutty during or just before sex. Actually, I think this is one of the reason it is so easy to get laid on Halloween. One afternoon I was framing a new closet in my house and my girlfriend stopped by to drop off lunch for me. She was on her way to a bridal shower and was all dressed up. She walked in the house and when she saw me in jeans, a torn shirt, and wearing my tool belt she basically just started shedding her clothes. After that I get really nervous when repairmen would have to go to her house to fix things.
There you have it, that's some of the crazier things I have come across.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
School Night
Ugh, my head is fucking killing me today, I'm getting old. In college I could go out on a Tuesday night for "Penny Pitchers" of Natty Light, stay up until 4am, be in class by 10am, study all day, then be at the bar that night and do it all over again. Now I go out until midnight, have three beers and I am crushed the next day. This blows.
I took Kay to the Toots and the Maytals show last night at the 930 Club. It was a great show and I had a good time. For an old guy Toots put on a killer show. After the show I drove Kay home. There was a little making out in the car in front of her place but nothing more. Kay has plans to head out of town this weekend, but may have to stay for work. If she decides to go on her trip I may try to get together for some late night bedroom aerobics this evening. If she decides to stay in town for the weekend I'm sure we'll meet up at some point. I dig her and am going to try to keep her around.
I have to do a little triage in the dating department. There are a few girls that are leftover from my Internet experiment that I need to cut loose. I have ignored a few Firecracker text messages, I'm not really interested in seeing her again. There is another girl I went out with a few times that I have so little interest in I don't think I even bothered to make up a name for her here. I have blatantly ignored her voice mails and texts, I think that one is pretty much taken care of except that she is my friend on Facebook. What the hell do you do about that? Do you "defriend" them or just ignore the situation altogether. As with most things I am going to ignore and see if it goes away on its own. FYI, her Facebook pages has pictures of her bumping and grinding with a couple of tools at some pool party, which is classy.
Here's a tricky one - Bear. Bear and I have been emailing a bit since I ran into her on the street last month, and it has been a little flirtatious. She said that she is "busy" until July 15th, but can get together anytime after that. I think she is/was dating some Navy dude, so maybe that was the date he shipped out. Bear and I really aren't all that compatible except in the bedroom, but the sex is reason enough to stay in touch with her. She is probably the most sexually enlightened girl I have ever come across, and could probably do a whole blog just on her sexual proclivities. I'm sure she's into some things that never even crossed most peoples' minds.
Honestly, there is one thing that REALLY keeps Bear on my brain. One night at dinner she said that she would be interested in bringing another girl into bed with us. I asked if she had anyone in mind and she responded "anonymous", meaning she was open to suggestions. I don't have the slightest clue how one goes about recruiting for that event, but it certainly is intriguing. I have never had a full-blown threesome before (I have hooked up with two girls at once) but it's something I will do before I die.
I think I am going to stick to my guns about keeping Kay around and try not to get involved with Bear right now.
I took Kay to the Toots and the Maytals show last night at the 930 Club. It was a great show and I had a good time. For an old guy Toots put on a killer show. After the show I drove Kay home. There was a little making out in the car in front of her place but nothing more. Kay has plans to head out of town this weekend, but may have to stay for work. If she decides to go on her trip I may try to get together for some late night bedroom aerobics this evening. If she decides to stay in town for the weekend I'm sure we'll meet up at some point. I dig her and am going to try to keep her around.
I have to do a little triage in the dating department. There are a few girls that are leftover from my Internet experiment that I need to cut loose. I have ignored a few Firecracker text messages, I'm not really interested in seeing her again. There is another girl I went out with a few times that I have so little interest in I don't think I even bothered to make up a name for her here. I have blatantly ignored her voice mails and texts, I think that one is pretty much taken care of except that she is my friend on Facebook. What the hell do you do about that? Do you "defriend" them or just ignore the situation altogether. As with most things I am going to ignore and see if it goes away on its own. FYI, her Facebook pages has pictures of her bumping and grinding with a couple of tools at some pool party, which is classy.
Here's a tricky one - Bear. Bear and I have been emailing a bit since I ran into her on the street last month, and it has been a little flirtatious. She said that she is "busy" until July 15th, but can get together anytime after that. I think she is/was dating some Navy dude, so maybe that was the date he shipped out. Bear and I really aren't all that compatible except in the bedroom, but the sex is reason enough to stay in touch with her. She is probably the most sexually enlightened girl I have ever come across, and could probably do a whole blog just on her sexual proclivities. I'm sure she's into some things that never even crossed most peoples' minds.
Honestly, there is one thing that REALLY keeps Bear on my brain. One night at dinner she said that she would be interested in bringing another girl into bed with us. I asked if she had anyone in mind and she responded "anonymous", meaning she was open to suggestions. I don't have the slightest clue how one goes about recruiting for that event, but it certainly is intriguing. I have never had a full-blown threesome before (I have hooked up with two girls at once) but it's something I will do before I die.
I think I am going to stick to my guns about keeping Kay around and try not to get involved with Bear right now.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Wait, something's not right!
When a girl says "Wait, something's not right!", almost nothing good can come of it. The expression ranks right up there with "Freeze, put your hands in the air!" and "We need to talk" on the list of things you don't want to hear on a date, especially a first date. However, on Saturday I found there is an exception.
I went out with Kay on Saturday. I had hyped the evening up a bit in my head and was actually a little nervous on Saturday afternoon. I made a point of cleaning my house and did most of the dinner prep before picking her up at 7pm. I decided to ride the motorcycle to get Kay, and she was fine with riding. From her house we went to the Maine Ave fish market and bought some lobsters.
Side note: Kay is from the mid-west and has not had much exposure to sea food. To my surprise, she has never had lobster, which I think is nearly criminal. The way I asked Kay out is that I told her she has to try lobster, and that if she would try it I would be happy to cook it for her. Hence, the date.
After the fish market we rode to my house. We sat on my deck and drank some wine while I finished up cooking. It was after 9pm before dinner was finished, but it didn't seem to matter that is was a little late because Kay is really easy to talk to. Aside from some exploding lobster bits flying around during dinner things went well. Kay liked lobster, honestly, anything is good dipped in melted butter, so I wasn't surprised. During dinner we talked about college and Kay mentioned that she was in not one but four wet t-shirt contests in Florida during spring break one year. Not only that, but she entered with another girl, and they reason they won is because they hooked up onstage. I'm not surprised that two girls hooked up on spring break, I'm just surprised that Kay would do that, she strikes me as very reserved. I made a mental note of this and we continued to talk.
I told Kay to bring a suit if she wanted to go in the hot tub, which she did. After dinner we cleaned up a bit, then changed and went into the tub. It was about 11pm by then, and we had drank almost two bottles of wine. We were both feeling pretty good. We were in the tub for about an hour, talking and relaxing. It was relatively cool out, so the water felt great. I had made a decision earlier in the evening that I was not going to try to kiss Kay or make any other moves. I thought that it would be best to keep this date platonic, then set up one more date and see where that one went. This theory went out the window around midnight when I reached across the tub and kissed her. I'm not sure exactly what prompted me to change my mind, but it was well received.
We kissed for a fairly long time, and eventually I tried taking her top off. Not surprisingly, I wasn't able to get it off despite what must have been 3 minutes of fiddling with it. I'm in my early thirties and I still can't undo a bra or bathing suit with any consistency. I wonder what runs through a girls head while I'm bumbling around with her bra clasp like a 14 year old kid. It's so embarrassing. Finally I said "I just can't get this thing" and she just laughed then reached behind her back took it off for me.
We fooled around for a little longer before bathing suits were flung in all directions onto my lawn. We were moving around in the tub, changing positions and going from seat to seat, but we didn't actually have sex, though we came close a few times (just the tip). I'm not sure how it came about, or even how it was possible, but I kind of floated in the tub and Kay went down on me. After, I picked her up and set her on the corner of the tub and returned the favor. I now confirmed my earlier thoughts that Kay was not as quiet as she lets on at first. While I was going down on her she arched her back, squeezed her nipples and started moaning, yelling, and thrashing around. When she came she muttered something unintelligible, and almost slipped out of the tub and onto my patio. I was trying to hold onto her, but with all the water it was like trying to hold onto a freshly caught fish, she kept twitching and flopping around. She stayed in the tub, though. One funny side note. My bitchy neighbor had her parents in town this weekend, and they were outside on her deck while all this was going on. We were maybe 12 feet from each other, separated only by a 6' tall wood fence. When Kay started moaning really loudly I heard my neighbor's father say "Umm, well, maybe we should be moving inside". I love it.
We had granny fingers by this point and we moved into the house to clean up with a quick shower. After the shower it was close to 1:30, so I asked Kay to spend the night. We got into bed and started right up fooling around again. We talked for a second about if we should have sex or not and after 40 seconds of debating decided it was an excellent idea. Kay has an awesome body and knows how to use it. The sex was great and we tried four or five positions. After we both came we collapsed and fell asleep for a few hours.
I'm not sure what caused it, but we both woke up at 4:30am and went at it again. Again we tried a few different positions, and at one point Kay was on top of me leaning back, with her hands resting on my legs and her feet on the bed on either side of me when I started to feel a tremendous amount of "water" rushing down my hips and onto my stomach. There was also a very loud splashing sound. I assumed that she was like Salsa and that she was somewhat of a squirter sometimes when she came. However, while all this fluid was now gushing down my stomach and chest, Kay stopped and said "Wait, something's not right!", she then jumped off me and ran to the bathroom.
I will admit that I had a moment of panic. It was dark in my room so I figured that what I thought was her cum was going to turn out to be blood. I walked over to the light switch, closed me eyes and turned on the light. I slowly opened my eyes, fully expecting my bed to look like a crime scene. However, it was just as I thought, on my bed was a 16" round (clear) wet spot, no red. My next thought was "she just pissed on me". There's only one way I know how to check, so I rubbed my hand on my stomach and brought it up to my nose. Nope, it's not pee either, which is good news. I turned off the lights and got back on the bed. Ten seconds later Kay came back and climbed back on top of me and we finished up.
Later, I said "so, everything was OK?", and she said "That was a lot of fluid. Who knew?". I guess that was a first for her. It was one of the few ways of having a positive outcome after a statement like "Wait, something's not right!".
Even if we hadn't had sex I would have said I had a great time on Saturday night. The great sex was just icing on the cake. Overall, I would say that at this point there is nothing crazy about Kay and we are planning on going out again this week.
I went out with Kay on Saturday. I had hyped the evening up a bit in my head and was actually a little nervous on Saturday afternoon. I made a point of cleaning my house and did most of the dinner prep before picking her up at 7pm. I decided to ride the motorcycle to get Kay, and she was fine with riding. From her house we went to the Maine Ave fish market and bought some lobsters.
Side note: Kay is from the mid-west and has not had much exposure to sea food. To my surprise, she has never had lobster, which I think is nearly criminal. The way I asked Kay out is that I told her she has to try lobster, and that if she would try it I would be happy to cook it for her. Hence, the date.
After the fish market we rode to my house. We sat on my deck and drank some wine while I finished up cooking. It was after 9pm before dinner was finished, but it didn't seem to matter that is was a little late because Kay is really easy to talk to. Aside from some exploding lobster bits flying around during dinner things went well. Kay liked lobster, honestly, anything is good dipped in melted butter, so I wasn't surprised. During dinner we talked about college and Kay mentioned that she was in not one but four wet t-shirt contests in Florida during spring break one year. Not only that, but she entered with another girl, and they reason they won is because they hooked up onstage. I'm not surprised that two girls hooked up on spring break, I'm just surprised that Kay would do that, she strikes me as very reserved. I made a mental note of this and we continued to talk.
I told Kay to bring a suit if she wanted to go in the hot tub, which she did. After dinner we cleaned up a bit, then changed and went into the tub. It was about 11pm by then, and we had drank almost two bottles of wine. We were both feeling pretty good. We were in the tub for about an hour, talking and relaxing. It was relatively cool out, so the water felt great. I had made a decision earlier in the evening that I was not going to try to kiss Kay or make any other moves. I thought that it would be best to keep this date platonic, then set up one more date and see where that one went. This theory went out the window around midnight when I reached across the tub and kissed her. I'm not sure exactly what prompted me to change my mind, but it was well received.
We kissed for a fairly long time, and eventually I tried taking her top off. Not surprisingly, I wasn't able to get it off despite what must have been 3 minutes of fiddling with it. I'm in my early thirties and I still can't undo a bra or bathing suit with any consistency. I wonder what runs through a girls head while I'm bumbling around with her bra clasp like a 14 year old kid. It's so embarrassing. Finally I said "I just can't get this thing" and she just laughed then reached behind her back took it off for me.
We fooled around for a little longer before bathing suits were flung in all directions onto my lawn. We were moving around in the tub, changing positions and going from seat to seat, but we didn't actually have sex, though we came close a few times (just the tip). I'm not sure how it came about, or even how it was possible, but I kind of floated in the tub and Kay went down on me. After, I picked her up and set her on the corner of the tub and returned the favor. I now confirmed my earlier thoughts that Kay was not as quiet as she lets on at first. While I was going down on her she arched her back, squeezed her nipples and started moaning, yelling, and thrashing around. When she came she muttered something unintelligible, and almost slipped out of the tub and onto my patio. I was trying to hold onto her, but with all the water it was like trying to hold onto a freshly caught fish, she kept twitching and flopping around. She stayed in the tub, though. One funny side note. My bitchy neighbor had her parents in town this weekend, and they were outside on her deck while all this was going on. We were maybe 12 feet from each other, separated only by a 6' tall wood fence. When Kay started moaning really loudly I heard my neighbor's father say "Umm, well, maybe we should be moving inside". I love it.
We had granny fingers by this point and we moved into the house to clean up with a quick shower. After the shower it was close to 1:30, so I asked Kay to spend the night. We got into bed and started right up fooling around again. We talked for a second about if we should have sex or not and after 40 seconds of debating decided it was an excellent idea. Kay has an awesome body and knows how to use it. The sex was great and we tried four or five positions. After we both came we collapsed and fell asleep for a few hours.
I'm not sure what caused it, but we both woke up at 4:30am and went at it again. Again we tried a few different positions, and at one point Kay was on top of me leaning back, with her hands resting on my legs and her feet on the bed on either side of me when I started to feel a tremendous amount of "water" rushing down my hips and onto my stomach. There was also a very loud splashing sound. I assumed that she was like Salsa and that she was somewhat of a squirter sometimes when she came. However, while all this fluid was now gushing down my stomach and chest, Kay stopped and said "Wait, something's not right!", she then jumped off me and ran to the bathroom.
I will admit that I had a moment of panic. It was dark in my room so I figured that what I thought was her cum was going to turn out to be blood. I walked over to the light switch, closed me eyes and turned on the light. I slowly opened my eyes, fully expecting my bed to look like a crime scene. However, it was just as I thought, on my bed was a 16" round (clear) wet spot, no red. My next thought was "she just pissed on me". There's only one way I know how to check, so I rubbed my hand on my stomach and brought it up to my nose. Nope, it's not pee either, which is good news. I turned off the lights and got back on the bed. Ten seconds later Kay came back and climbed back on top of me and we finished up.
Later, I said "so, everything was OK?", and she said "That was a lot of fluid. Who knew?". I guess that was a first for her. It was one of the few ways of having a positive outcome after a statement like "Wait, something's not right!".
Even if we hadn't had sex I would have said I had a great time on Saturday night. The great sex was just icing on the cake. Overall, I would say that at this point there is nothing crazy about Kay and we are planning on going out again this week.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Hair
What's with all the pubic hair lately? It's summer, there's no fucking excuse for all that bush. In the past year I've noticed a disturbing trend towards more and more pubic hair and I think I speak for most men when I say I do not approve. I don't want to see a tarantula when you take off your pants.
I prefer my women to be completely waxed, I don't want to contend with any hair. Waxed is better than a shave because you don't get that "five o'clock" shadow. If you shave you have to really stay on top of it, stubble is simply unacceptable.
I understand that some women like a little something down there so that they don't feel pre-pubescent. In that case a landing strip is OK, but anything wider than one finger is simply too much. Honestly, you're really walking on dangerous ground with the landing strip because they tend to get away from women. Eventually the thin little strip morphs into that gigantic "V", and that's just a sloppy mess. If you're going to leave a little strip down there you have to trim the length too. When it gets too long you can see the hair through your bathing suit, and it's a real turn off. It looks like you're hiding broccoli in your bikini bottom.
When I was 17 years old my very progressive 16 year old girlfriend shaved everything completely off. I couldn't believe my eyes, it was like discovering gold. From that point on I was a convert.
During my freshman year of college I started hooking up with this really cute girl who was also a freshman. She had a cute face, was tall, brown hair, brown eyes, and a rock solid body. However, she just didn't groom her bush at all and it really bothered me. Being young and, frankly, just happy to be getting laid regularly I didn't say anything about it at first. But as the sex got more regular I got bolder and eventually one particularly drunk evening I stood up just before sex and walked towards the medicine cabinet. She said "where are you going?", I replied "to get a razor." She was utterly confused and probably more than a little scared. "A razor, for what". As I walked back from the bathroom I clicked on my little battery operated beard trimmer and said "To shave your bush".
I don't recall exactly what she said to me as she put her clothes back on and stormed out of my room, but she made enough of a ruckus that some of my neighbors came out to see what was going on. My neighbor and good friend Ray remembers her stomping down the hallway repeating "Shave your bush? Ha! Shave your bush! Shave my bush? I don't think so!". I had put on a towel but was still holding the clippers in my hand. My buddies loved it, and from that point on her name was "Shaveyourbush", which cracked me up, it was like her Indian name (feather not dot).
I now make it very clear right from the beginning of a relationship what my grooming expectations are. I have learned to be more tactful about it, but the message is the same, "The hair has to go. Wax it, shave it, laser it off if you have to, but get it out of there." But it seems like the style is big bush these days. Was there an article in Vogue titled "Let it grow"? If so, take my word, bush is not back in style, trim that sucker. Guys don't like it.
I prefer my women to be completely waxed, I don't want to contend with any hair. Waxed is better than a shave because you don't get that "five o'clock" shadow. If you shave you have to really stay on top of it, stubble is simply unacceptable.
I understand that some women like a little something down there so that they don't feel pre-pubescent. In that case a landing strip is OK, but anything wider than one finger is simply too much. Honestly, you're really walking on dangerous ground with the landing strip because they tend to get away from women. Eventually the thin little strip morphs into that gigantic "V", and that's just a sloppy mess. If you're going to leave a little strip down there you have to trim the length too. When it gets too long you can see the hair through your bathing suit, and it's a real turn off. It looks like you're hiding broccoli in your bikini bottom.
When I was 17 years old my very progressive 16 year old girlfriend shaved everything completely off. I couldn't believe my eyes, it was like discovering gold. From that point on I was a convert.
During my freshman year of college I started hooking up with this really cute girl who was also a freshman. She had a cute face, was tall, brown hair, brown eyes, and a rock solid body. However, she just didn't groom her bush at all and it really bothered me. Being young and, frankly, just happy to be getting laid regularly I didn't say anything about it at first. But as the sex got more regular I got bolder and eventually one particularly drunk evening I stood up just before sex and walked towards the medicine cabinet. She said "where are you going?", I replied "to get a razor." She was utterly confused and probably more than a little scared. "A razor, for what". As I walked back from the bathroom I clicked on my little battery operated beard trimmer and said "To shave your bush".
I don't recall exactly what she said to me as she put her clothes back on and stormed out of my room, but she made enough of a ruckus that some of my neighbors came out to see what was going on. My neighbor and good friend Ray remembers her stomping down the hallway repeating "Shave your bush? Ha! Shave your bush! Shave my bush? I don't think so!". I had put on a towel but was still holding the clippers in my hand. My buddies loved it, and from that point on her name was "Shaveyourbush", which cracked me up, it was like her Indian name (feather not dot).
I now make it very clear right from the beginning of a relationship what my grooming expectations are. I have learned to be more tactful about it, but the message is the same, "The hair has to go. Wax it, shave it, laser it off if you have to, but get it out of there." But it seems like the style is big bush these days. Was there an article in Vogue titled "Let it grow"? If so, take my word, bush is not back in style, trim that sucker. Guys don't like it.
Monday, July 13, 2009
The Firecracker
Let me start with a mini-rant. If you see a motorcycle on the road, give it some room, at least a few car lengths if you can. This morning some bitch in a black SUV ran a stop sign and almost nailed me. I didn't make any gestures, which is unusual. At the next stop sign I was waiting to make a left on to Mass Ave, and she (the same lady) passed me and made a left turn just as I started to do the same! I almost turned right into her. Once is a mistake, twice I take personally. She went speeding down Mass so I took off after her. When I caught up I passed her on the right and threw what must have been two dollars worth of change off the hood of her car (I keep change on hand for just such an occasion). I then went around her and two other cars so she couldn't cut me off or do anything else that might jeopardize my life. Cunt.
OK, so on to the weekend.
Friday night I had a date with the Firecracker. I picked her up at her house around 8pm and we went for a motorcycle ride in Virginia. She looked really cute, she had on a white "wife beater" tank top, jeans, and tall leather boots.
Like most girls, Firecracker's motorcycle experience was limited to a jerk-ex-boyfriend who put her on the back and proceeded to tear around town, scaring the shit out of her. Naturally, she was apprehensive about getting on a bike again. I have a sport bike that is loud as hell, so it didn't help the situation. However, we rode around town for a little while before getting onto I-395, and she relaxed after a short time.
We rode for about an hour and a half. The weather was perfect and there weren't many cars on the road, we were pretty much on our own. We circled back into the city and stopped at a bar near my house to get a beer. We talked for a while but we struggled to find anything substantial that we had in common. The conversation was choppy and I felt like I was working hard to keep it going.
I don't like to have more than one drink when I'm riding, so I suggested we go back to my place and BBQ, which Firecracker was down with. On the ride back I noticed that her hands were riding a lot lower than they were earlier, and she rubbed my legs every time we stopped at a light. Apparently things were going well even though I thought the conversation was forced.
At my place Fircracker said she wasn't really hungry yet, so we had a drink and sat on my porch and talked.
As I had mentioned, this date is my buddy Andy's well-scripted ploy to seduce women, and I am reluctant to alter it in anyway because it is bullet proof. However, I have this new hot tub and was anxious to see if it would work in my favor, so I asked Fircracker if she wanted to go in the tub. There was a somewhat long pause, then she said "Yes, definitely, but I don't have a suit". I gave Firecracker a pair of mesh shorts and a t-shirt and let her change in my bedroom. My suit was in the bathroom drying so I went in there and put it on. When she came out of my room I turned on the stereo and turned on the outdoor speakers. We mixed another drink and got into the tub.
It took about 15 minutes in the tub before we started making out. My yard has a lot of trees, so only one of my neighbors can see my tub from his windows, and he's gay, so I don't think he is into watching. However, Firecracker kind of looked around nervously as I took her shirt off. I assured her no one could see us, and that was the last about that. After kissing for a while Firecracker let go of me and sat back onto one of the seats. She took off her shorts and flung them out of the tub.
It was right about here that I decided to officially incorporate the tub into Andy's date formula.
Once her shorts were off it was only a few minutes before we were having sex. Firecracker lived up to her name. She was an animal, and we had sex every-which-way in the tub. We then moved into the shower and after a short break went another round in there. It was close to 1am now, and we were pretty tired, so I asked her to stay the night. As soon as we got into bed she climbed on top of me and we went at it one more time. She clearly had a lot of pent up sexual aggression. This time around she really let loose and started saying "Fuck me. Fuck me, Fuck me.". It was soft at first, but started to build until finally she was screaming it almost as loud as she could. I don't know if my tenant was home, but if he was he really got a show. When we were done Firecracker said "Really glad the windows were open for that".
I was awakened at 6am by lots of beeping. I was disoriented, and wasn't sure what the noises were so I walked into the hallway to track it down. I thought it may have been my alarm system or maybe my cable modem. Turns out it was Firecracker's phone beeping and ringing like crazy, so I brought it back to bed with me and gave it to her. She said "My roommate locked herself out of the house", "That's unfortunate, what does that mean to us?" I replied. "Well, I have to go home and let her in." I don't think I actually said anything, but I let out a groan that left no question about how aggravated I was.
I gave Fircracker a ride home and went directly back to sleep. Around noon I got out of bed and made some coffee. My house looked like a hurricane had come through. The hot tub cover was open. There were glasses on the edge of the tub, along with my suit, and her shorts and t-shirt. There were also FOUR sopping wet towels in the bathroom. Two from when we got out of the tub and two from after the shower. Why we couldn't use the same towels is a mystery to me.
I also had the pleasure of emptying the tub in the morning. I am not sure what protocol is for having sex in it, but I am pretty sure it's not good for the water.
Kay is coming over for dinner next Saturday night. It's the first time in a while that I am actually looking forward to a date. I have to email her sometime this week to finalize the plans, but I think the general plan is going to be very similar to last Friday night's agenda. I may tone-down the hot tub, though.
OK, so on to the weekend.
Friday night I had a date with the Firecracker. I picked her up at her house around 8pm and we went for a motorcycle ride in Virginia. She looked really cute, she had on a white "wife beater" tank top, jeans, and tall leather boots.
Like most girls, Firecracker's motorcycle experience was limited to a jerk-ex-boyfriend who put her on the back and proceeded to tear around town, scaring the shit out of her. Naturally, she was apprehensive about getting on a bike again. I have a sport bike that is loud as hell, so it didn't help the situation. However, we rode around town for a little while before getting onto I-395, and she relaxed after a short time.
We rode for about an hour and a half. The weather was perfect and there weren't many cars on the road, we were pretty much on our own. We circled back into the city and stopped at a bar near my house to get a beer. We talked for a while but we struggled to find anything substantial that we had in common. The conversation was choppy and I felt like I was working hard to keep it going.
I don't like to have more than one drink when I'm riding, so I suggested we go back to my place and BBQ, which Firecracker was down with. On the ride back I noticed that her hands were riding a lot lower than they were earlier, and she rubbed my legs every time we stopped at a light. Apparently things were going well even though I thought the conversation was forced.
At my place Fircracker said she wasn't really hungry yet, so we had a drink and sat on my porch and talked.
As I had mentioned, this date is my buddy Andy's well-scripted ploy to seduce women, and I am reluctant to alter it in anyway because it is bullet proof. However, I have this new hot tub and was anxious to see if it would work in my favor, so I asked Fircracker if she wanted to go in the tub. There was a somewhat long pause, then she said "Yes, definitely, but I don't have a suit". I gave Firecracker a pair of mesh shorts and a t-shirt and let her change in my bedroom. My suit was in the bathroom drying so I went in there and put it on. When she came out of my room I turned on the stereo and turned on the outdoor speakers. We mixed another drink and got into the tub.
It took about 15 minutes in the tub before we started making out. My yard has a lot of trees, so only one of my neighbors can see my tub from his windows, and he's gay, so I don't think he is into watching. However, Firecracker kind of looked around nervously as I took her shirt off. I assured her no one could see us, and that was the last about that. After kissing for a while Firecracker let go of me and sat back onto one of the seats. She took off her shorts and flung them out of the tub.
It was right about here that I decided to officially incorporate the tub into Andy's date formula.
Once her shorts were off it was only a few minutes before we were having sex. Firecracker lived up to her name. She was an animal, and we had sex every-which-way in the tub. We then moved into the shower and after a short break went another round in there. It was close to 1am now, and we were pretty tired, so I asked her to stay the night. As soon as we got into bed she climbed on top of me and we went at it one more time. She clearly had a lot of pent up sexual aggression. This time around she really let loose and started saying "Fuck me. Fuck me, Fuck me.". It was soft at first, but started to build until finally she was screaming it almost as loud as she could. I don't know if my tenant was home, but if he was he really got a show. When we were done Firecracker said "Really glad the windows were open for that".
I was awakened at 6am by lots of beeping. I was disoriented, and wasn't sure what the noises were so I walked into the hallway to track it down. I thought it may have been my alarm system or maybe my cable modem. Turns out it was Firecracker's phone beeping and ringing like crazy, so I brought it back to bed with me and gave it to her. She said "My roommate locked herself out of the house", "That's unfortunate, what does that mean to us?" I replied. "Well, I have to go home and let her in." I don't think I actually said anything, but I let out a groan that left no question about how aggravated I was.
I gave Fircracker a ride home and went directly back to sleep. Around noon I got out of bed and made some coffee. My house looked like a hurricane had come through. The hot tub cover was open. There were glasses on the edge of the tub, along with my suit, and her shorts and t-shirt. There were also FOUR sopping wet towels in the bathroom. Two from when we got out of the tub and two from after the shower. Why we couldn't use the same towels is a mystery to me.
I also had the pleasure of emptying the tub in the morning. I am not sure what protocol is for having sex in it, but I am pretty sure it's not good for the water.
Kay is coming over for dinner next Saturday night. It's the first time in a while that I am actually looking forward to a date. I have to email her sometime this week to finalize the plans, but I think the general plan is going to be very similar to last Friday night's agenda. I may tone-down the hot tub, though.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Weekend
I was supposed to go out with Firecracker tonight, but I switched our plans to tomorrow night so that I didn't have to worry about getting to bed early for work.
I'm resurrecting to a tried-and-true date formula that I have not used in a few years. I learned the formula accidentally from a friend and former neighbor, Andy, who I have mentioned before. One night I was heading out of my old apartment complex on my bike with a first date on the back. As we were pulling out Andy rolled in on his bike and we chatted for a second. He said he was on his way to pick up a date and asked if we wanted to ride together. I was hesitant because I wanted to get some alone time with my date (who was smoking hot, way out of my league), but in the end decided to tag along. The night turned into a double-date and my girl spent the night. Since that night I have used the "formula" many times, it goes something like this:
We start with an early-evening motorcycle ride that lasts about an hour. The ride should be long enough to build an appetite, but not so long that you're exhausted at the end. Towards the end of the ride you ask the girl if she's hungry (she usually is), and if she would like to come over for a drink and maybe grill a bite to eat? Here's the genius of the date. At home you have some defrosted chicken in the fridge, a head of Romaine lettuce, some bread, and some vegetables. It seems like you are just rooting around for leftovers, but together they make up a pretty tasty BBQ. You just throw the chicken and veggies on the grill, make a quick salad, open a bottle of wine and you're in business. You look like a hero with almost zero effort. After dinner you have a few drinks on a deck or in the back yard and no one is in any shape for driving anyone anywhere.
I would say, conservatively, that I have done this exact date 50 times and that 35 resulted in long nights of sweaty sex. I almost hate to divulge it.
I am going to stock the fridge for Firecracker tomorrow. I have a hot tub at my house. The original date formula works so well I almost hate to play with it by asking Firecracker to bring a bathing suit. I feel that it's like chemistry, even minor changes in the formula can have catastrophic repercussions. However, I'm really not into this girl all that much so I don't mind using her for tests.
I don't have plans for Saturday yet, maybe I'll ask out another Internet chick.
I'm resurrecting to a tried-and-true date formula that I have not used in a few years. I learned the formula accidentally from a friend and former neighbor, Andy, who I have mentioned before. One night I was heading out of my old apartment complex on my bike with a first date on the back. As we were pulling out Andy rolled in on his bike and we chatted for a second. He said he was on his way to pick up a date and asked if we wanted to ride together. I was hesitant because I wanted to get some alone time with my date (who was smoking hot, way out of my league), but in the end decided to tag along. The night turned into a double-date and my girl spent the night. Since that night I have used the "formula" many times, it goes something like this:
We start with an early-evening motorcycle ride that lasts about an hour. The ride should be long enough to build an appetite, but not so long that you're exhausted at the end. Towards the end of the ride you ask the girl if she's hungry (she usually is), and if she would like to come over for a drink and maybe grill a bite to eat? Here's the genius of the date. At home you have some defrosted chicken in the fridge, a head of Romaine lettuce, some bread, and some vegetables. It seems like you are just rooting around for leftovers, but together they make up a pretty tasty BBQ. You just throw the chicken and veggies on the grill, make a quick salad, open a bottle of wine and you're in business. You look like a hero with almost zero effort. After dinner you have a few drinks on a deck or in the back yard and no one is in any shape for driving anyone anywhere.
I would say, conservatively, that I have done this exact date 50 times and that 35 resulted in long nights of sweaty sex. I almost hate to divulge it.
I am going to stock the fridge for Firecracker tomorrow. I have a hot tub at my house. The original date formula works so well I almost hate to play with it by asking Firecracker to bring a bathing suit. I feel that it's like chemistry, even minor changes in the formula can have catastrophic repercussions. However, I'm really not into this girl all that much so I don't mind using her for tests.
I don't have plans for Saturday yet, maybe I'll ask out another Internet chick.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Massage
OK, so things happening in rapid succession.
Firecracker sent me two texts last week that I didn't answer because I was lounging on the beach and didn't want to turn on my phone. I replied last night and explained that I was away and didn't get her messages until Monday night. We are going to go for a motorcycle ride either Thursday or Friday night. I plan on ending up back at my place for a dip in the hot tub.
I got a reply back from Kay about dinner. She is out of town this weekend for a wedding, so we are going to have dinner next week at a time TBD. Actually looking forward to that.
Lastly, I'm starting to think that I give off some toxic hormone that makes chicks do weird things to and around me. Last night I decided I needed a massage. My bike ride aches and pains were compounded this weekend by hours of wake boarding. I went online yesterday afternoon and Googled massage parlors in Washington, DC. Eventually a wound up on a page called yelp.com that apparently has users review all types of services. I settled on a "spa" in Dupont on Connecticut Ave that had a ton of good reviews. I called and made an appointment for that evening with a female masseuse.
I arrived a few minutes early and took a seat in the waiting area. The place was plain, bordering on seedy, but the reviews said it wasn't fancy, but that the massages were great and reasonably priced. After about 15 minutes a small, middle-aged Asian woman came out and said she was ready for me. She was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, which I thought was a little unusual.
I was led into a small massage room and she said she would be back. I undressed and laid down on the massage table under a sheet. The masseuse came back about 3 minutes later and started massaging my feet. I explained that my lower back was killing me, and asked her to spend some extra time on that.
The tiny little woman worked her way over my calves and hamstrings, then climbed on the table and began using her knees to crush my muscles. She was so small that it actually worked well, but sometimes bordered on painful. She used this technique all the way up my legs, back, butt and shoulders. On several occasions I had to tell her to ease up a bit.
After about 30 minutes she climbed off me and removed the sheet that had been covering my ass. "OK, that's a bit unusual" I thought to myself. She laid the sheet on my back and resumed the pummelling. She then moved the sheet on my legs and worked them. My ass was still exposed. Then she removed the sheet completely and placed a tiny hand towel on my ass and asked me to roll over. At this point the massage ceased to be relaxing, I was now uncomfortable and not enjoying myself.
I held the towel and rolled over, placing it back on my crotch. The massage resumed at my feet. She worked her way up my legs, casually throwing the towel aside to work my upper thighs.
Now I was thinking I had inadvertently signed up for a rub-and-tug. I chuckled as I thought about the yelp.com post I was going to submit as soon as I got out of there.
The next 15 minutes were the least relaxing of any massage I have ever had. The towel was placed on my chest and the woman began pressing on my chest and heart and instructed me when to inhale and exhale. On the exhales she would put all her weight on my chest, which I thought was an ancient Thai technique for placing someone in cardiac arrest. While all this pressing and breathing was going on, her arm was continually brushing against my penis. If my blood flow wasn't being restricted by her crushing my left ventricle, I probably would have had a hard on.
The "massage" ended when she removed the towel, thanked me, and walked out of the room. I popped off the table and quickly put my clothes on. I turned up the lights and carefully checked the room for hidden cameras, certain that I was being filmed for some sort of Asian massage fetish porno.
I walked out of the room pretty-well stunned. I paid the woman at the counter the $100, plus $20 tip, and got the hell out of there. The funny thing it that while it was an uncomfortable massage, my back feels like a million bucks today. I still haven't decided if it was a rub-and-tug joint, or she was just an old-school Asian and didn't give two shits about modesty.
Firecracker sent me two texts last week that I didn't answer because I was lounging on the beach and didn't want to turn on my phone. I replied last night and explained that I was away and didn't get her messages until Monday night. We are going to go for a motorcycle ride either Thursday or Friday night. I plan on ending up back at my place for a dip in the hot tub.
I got a reply back from Kay about dinner. She is out of town this weekend for a wedding, so we are going to have dinner next week at a time TBD. Actually looking forward to that.
Lastly, I'm starting to think that I give off some toxic hormone that makes chicks do weird things to and around me. Last night I decided I needed a massage. My bike ride aches and pains were compounded this weekend by hours of wake boarding. I went online yesterday afternoon and Googled massage parlors in Washington, DC. Eventually a wound up on a page called yelp.com that apparently has users review all types of services. I settled on a "spa" in Dupont on Connecticut Ave that had a ton of good reviews. I called and made an appointment for that evening with a female masseuse.
I arrived a few minutes early and took a seat in the waiting area. The place was plain, bordering on seedy, but the reviews said it wasn't fancy, but that the massages were great and reasonably priced. After about 15 minutes a small, middle-aged Asian woman came out and said she was ready for me. She was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, which I thought was a little unusual.
I was led into a small massage room and she said she would be back. I undressed and laid down on the massage table under a sheet. The masseuse came back about 3 minutes later and started massaging my feet. I explained that my lower back was killing me, and asked her to spend some extra time on that.
The tiny little woman worked her way over my calves and hamstrings, then climbed on the table and began using her knees to crush my muscles. She was so small that it actually worked well, but sometimes bordered on painful. She used this technique all the way up my legs, back, butt and shoulders. On several occasions I had to tell her to ease up a bit.
After about 30 minutes she climbed off me and removed the sheet that had been covering my ass. "OK, that's a bit unusual" I thought to myself. She laid the sheet on my back and resumed the pummelling. She then moved the sheet on my legs and worked them. My ass was still exposed. Then she removed the sheet completely and placed a tiny hand towel on my ass and asked me to roll over. At this point the massage ceased to be relaxing, I was now uncomfortable and not enjoying myself.
I held the towel and rolled over, placing it back on my crotch. The massage resumed at my feet. She worked her way up my legs, casually throwing the towel aside to work my upper thighs.
Now I was thinking I had inadvertently signed up for a rub-and-tug. I chuckled as I thought about the yelp.com post I was going to submit as soon as I got out of there.
The next 15 minutes were the least relaxing of any massage I have ever had. The towel was placed on my chest and the woman began pressing on my chest and heart and instructed me when to inhale and exhale. On the exhales she would put all her weight on my chest, which I thought was an ancient Thai technique for placing someone in cardiac arrest. While all this pressing and breathing was going on, her arm was continually brushing against my penis. If my blood flow wasn't being restricted by her crushing my left ventricle, I probably would have had a hard on.
The "massage" ended when she removed the towel, thanked me, and walked out of the room. I popped off the table and quickly put my clothes on. I turned up the lights and carefully checked the room for hidden cameras, certain that I was being filmed for some sort of Asian massage fetish porno.
I walked out of the room pretty-well stunned. I paid the woman at the counter the $100, plus $20 tip, and got the hell out of there. The funny thing it that while it was an uncomfortable massage, my back feels like a million bucks today. I still haven't decided if it was a rub-and-tug joint, or she was just an old-school Asian and didn't give two shits about modesty.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Dewey Baby, Dewey.
This weekend I broke my Dewey Beach cherry. I have been in DC for a few years now but had never made the pilgrimage to Dewey. I've been to Fenwick, Ocean City, and all over the Jersey Shore, but had never set foot on Dewey (AKA Do-me) Beach.
I rented a house with a group of friends. We all drove up Friday morning and returned to the city last night. As I have mentioned, Kay was one of the people in on the rental.
Overall, I didn't think Dewey was that bad. I had heard it was a dump, and that it was really seedy. It was certainly seedy, but the beaches were clean and the bars were no worse than most Jersey Shore spots. I mean, no one would confuse it with the Hamptons, or Newport, RI, but it could have been worse. We also took it somewhat easy. We cooked dinner in every night, then headed out to the bars at 10, so maybe my experience was skewed based on the company and our laid back nature.
Things went fairly well with Kay this weekend. I decided to drive Kay and her roommate up to the shore instead of taking my bike up, like I had originally planned. I thought it would be good to get a little extra face time with her before we got to the house.
The one thing that I hadn't really thought about was what I would do if I met a girl at Dewey and wanted to take her home. Clearly this would not have been an option if I ever wanted Kay to go out with me. I did talk to a bunch of girls while I was there, but no one I wanted to take home. The same was true with Kay. I saw her talk to dudes but she didn't hook up. Nothing happened between the two of us, either.
One night, while waiting for dinner, Kay mentioned that she has never tried lobster. She is a fairly picky eater, so it didn't surprise me, but I told her she is missing out on one of life's great pleasures. She said she would be willing to try it so I sent her an email today offering to cook her lobster one night if she would like.
On another note, I had a second date with a chick from the Internet. We went for drinks in Chinatown, then to a movie. She is pretty average in all regards. Average looking, average body, vanilla personality. I don't think she's exceedingly smart, and I am not attracted to her at all. I think I knew most of this after the first date, but any doubts were confirmed after date number two. The date ended up on my couch drinking wine at 1am. We made out for a little while, but it was clear nothing more than a little kissing was going to happen, so I told her I had to be up early and got her out of there as soon as possible.
I also received a text from the first girl I went out with. She was also under whelming, but I think I am going to give her a second shot.
One last thing. This morning I was on match.com checking out profiles and I clicked on one. I opened the profile and clicked on a second picture. It took me a few seconds to realize that it was Kay. There really isn't a problem, but if she checks her "Who viewed me" section she will be able to see that I looked at her profile. Again, not the end of the world, but it could potentially be a little awkward.
I rented a house with a group of friends. We all drove up Friday morning and returned to the city last night. As I have mentioned, Kay was one of the people in on the rental.
Overall, I didn't think Dewey was that bad. I had heard it was a dump, and that it was really seedy. It was certainly seedy, but the beaches were clean and the bars were no worse than most Jersey Shore spots. I mean, no one would confuse it with the Hamptons, or Newport, RI, but it could have been worse. We also took it somewhat easy. We cooked dinner in every night, then headed out to the bars at 10, so maybe my experience was skewed based on the company and our laid back nature.
Things went fairly well with Kay this weekend. I decided to drive Kay and her roommate up to the shore instead of taking my bike up, like I had originally planned. I thought it would be good to get a little extra face time with her before we got to the house.
The one thing that I hadn't really thought about was what I would do if I met a girl at Dewey and wanted to take her home. Clearly this would not have been an option if I ever wanted Kay to go out with me. I did talk to a bunch of girls while I was there, but no one I wanted to take home. The same was true with Kay. I saw her talk to dudes but she didn't hook up. Nothing happened between the two of us, either.
One night, while waiting for dinner, Kay mentioned that she has never tried lobster. She is a fairly picky eater, so it didn't surprise me, but I told her she is missing out on one of life's great pleasures. She said she would be willing to try it so I sent her an email today offering to cook her lobster one night if she would like.
On another note, I had a second date with a chick from the Internet. We went for drinks in Chinatown, then to a movie. She is pretty average in all regards. Average looking, average body, vanilla personality. I don't think she's exceedingly smart, and I am not attracted to her at all. I think I knew most of this after the first date, but any doubts were confirmed after date number two. The date ended up on my couch drinking wine at 1am. We made out for a little while, but it was clear nothing more than a little kissing was going to happen, so I told her I had to be up early and got her out of there as soon as possible.
I also received a text from the first girl I went out with. She was also under whelming, but I think I am going to give her a second shot.
One last thing. This morning I was on match.com checking out profiles and I clicked on one. I opened the profile and clicked on a second picture. It took me a few seconds to realize that it was Kay. There really isn't a problem, but if she checks her "Who viewed me" section she will be able to see that I looked at her profile. Again, not the end of the world, but it could potentially be a little awkward.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Bad Dreams of Robbers and Foxes
When one of my nieces was little she used to say that her nightmares were "Bad dreams of robbers and foxes". Well, last night was a nightmare for me, thus the post title.
This has been an awful week for me. I am fed up at work and am very close to quitting, renting my house and hitting the highway for a year to fuck off and see the US. I left work pretty dejected last night and just wanted to go home and have a beer, but I had committed to going to a friend's birthday party. I raced home, changed, and met everyone at the restaurant.
We had a nice dinner and it was a lot of fun. Kay was there and we sat next to each other, she's really easy to talk to, but I think I have done irreparable damage there. More on this in a minute.
After dinner we went to a bar and had one drink. I was pretty tired and said I was going to leave. One of the girls there, Amy, asked if I could give her a ride home, to which I said "sure".
I have known Amy for a long time. She lives by the baseball stadium, and I have given her rides before because she doesn't have a car, and her house isn't far from mine.
We were on South Capitol right at the Capitol Building when a cop behind me turned on his lights. I wasn't sure what I had done, but I obviously pulled right over and turned off the car.
I have friends who are cops and remembered some advice they had given me. They said that you should do everything you can to make the officer feel safe. They say to turn off the car, turn the lights on inside the car, put both hands on the wheel, and don't reach into the glove box or center console for anything. I did all those things. While we were waiting for the cops to come to the window Amy said "How much have you had to drink?". Honestly, it hadn't occurred to me that I may have drank too much to be driving. I started to think about what I drank that night. I had a drink at 7pm, three beers at dinner, then I had one more at the bar at 11pm. It was now 11:30, so I had five drinks over the course of four and a half hours. I didn't feel drunk at all, and figured I was OK.
The cop came up to my window and asked me for my license, registration, and insurance. My first problem was that I knew I didn't have my insurance card on me because it was taken out of my car one night when it was broken into. I gave him everything else and fumbled around with the paperwork for a few minutes. Then came the question "Have you been drinking tonight sir?". I explained that I had two beers at dinner, but that was a few hours ago. "Step out of the car for me, please, sir." Oh shit.
Now the questions came in rapid-fire succession. "Where were you? Where are you going? Who is the girl? Do you have any drugs on you? Do you have any weapons?" Honestly, I could barely remember my name. "Sir, I am going to administer a sobriety test now, I believe you are driving impaired". Great, this just keeps getting better.
The cop proceeded to run me through a series of near-impossible processes that a gymnast couldn't complete. I was standing on one foot, counting to a thousand, dancing, walking the line, and trying to follow the tip of his pen seemingly all at the same time. Then I had to do it all over again!
Finally, the cop said "Sir, this isn't a pass/fail test, we are looking for signs of impairment, and you do not appear to be impaired, but you admitted to drinking this evening. I am going to have you park your car here and take a cab home tonight." WOOHOO!!
After a 15 minute lecture on driving under the influence, and the zero tolerance policy in the district, Amy and I hailed a cab. On the way to her place I said I was going to go home, have a beer, and soak in my hot tub until I stopped shaking. I asked Amy if she wanted to join me, and she said sure.
Amy: Amy is a cool chick, but I am really not attracted to her at all. She's a little curvier than I like my girls. She's about 5'5", brown curly hair, blue eyes, and gigantic boobs. But she's a little on the heavy side.
We got to my place and I gave Amy a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. I put on a suit and we hopped in the tub with a couple of drinks. Within five minutes we were making out and Amy's huge boobs were in my face. We made out until our fingers turned into prunes and I suggested we take a shower to rinse off the chlorine. Once naked and in the shower it was a forgone conclusion that we were having sex. We got out of the shower and went right to my bedroom. We had sex twice in a row, took a nap, and then had sex again in the morning.
At around 7am I made coffee and called a cab to take me back to my car. Amy rode with me then continued on to her house.
The real problem is that Amy and Kay are kind of friends. I don't see good things happening with this situation.
This has been an awful week for me. I am fed up at work and am very close to quitting, renting my house and hitting the highway for a year to fuck off and see the US. I left work pretty dejected last night and just wanted to go home and have a beer, but I had committed to going to a friend's birthday party. I raced home, changed, and met everyone at the restaurant.
We had a nice dinner and it was a lot of fun. Kay was there and we sat next to each other, she's really easy to talk to, but I think I have done irreparable damage there. More on this in a minute.
After dinner we went to a bar and had one drink. I was pretty tired and said I was going to leave. One of the girls there, Amy, asked if I could give her a ride home, to which I said "sure".
I have known Amy for a long time. She lives by the baseball stadium, and I have given her rides before because she doesn't have a car, and her house isn't far from mine.
We were on South Capitol right at the Capitol Building when a cop behind me turned on his lights. I wasn't sure what I had done, but I obviously pulled right over and turned off the car.
I have friends who are cops and remembered some advice they had given me. They said that you should do everything you can to make the officer feel safe. They say to turn off the car, turn the lights on inside the car, put both hands on the wheel, and don't reach into the glove box or center console for anything. I did all those things. While we were waiting for the cops to come to the window Amy said "How much have you had to drink?". Honestly, it hadn't occurred to me that I may have drank too much to be driving. I started to think about what I drank that night. I had a drink at 7pm, three beers at dinner, then I had one more at the bar at 11pm. It was now 11:30, so I had five drinks over the course of four and a half hours. I didn't feel drunk at all, and figured I was OK.
The cop came up to my window and asked me for my license, registration, and insurance. My first problem was that I knew I didn't have my insurance card on me because it was taken out of my car one night when it was broken into. I gave him everything else and fumbled around with the paperwork for a few minutes. Then came the question "Have you been drinking tonight sir?". I explained that I had two beers at dinner, but that was a few hours ago. "Step out of the car for me, please, sir." Oh shit.
Now the questions came in rapid-fire succession. "Where were you? Where are you going? Who is the girl? Do you have any drugs on you? Do you have any weapons?" Honestly, I could barely remember my name. "Sir, I am going to administer a sobriety test now, I believe you are driving impaired". Great, this just keeps getting better.
The cop proceeded to run me through a series of near-impossible processes that a gymnast couldn't complete. I was standing on one foot, counting to a thousand, dancing, walking the line, and trying to follow the tip of his pen seemingly all at the same time. Then I had to do it all over again!
Finally, the cop said "Sir, this isn't a pass/fail test, we are looking for signs of impairment, and you do not appear to be impaired, but you admitted to drinking this evening. I am going to have you park your car here and take a cab home tonight." WOOHOO!!
After a 15 minute lecture on driving under the influence, and the zero tolerance policy in the district, Amy and I hailed a cab. On the way to her place I said I was going to go home, have a beer, and soak in my hot tub until I stopped shaking. I asked Amy if she wanted to join me, and she said sure.
Amy: Amy is a cool chick, but I am really not attracted to her at all. She's a little curvier than I like my girls. She's about 5'5", brown curly hair, blue eyes, and gigantic boobs. But she's a little on the heavy side.
We got to my place and I gave Amy a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. I put on a suit and we hopped in the tub with a couple of drinks. Within five minutes we were making out and Amy's huge boobs were in my face. We made out until our fingers turned into prunes and I suggested we take a shower to rinse off the chlorine. Once naked and in the shower it was a forgone conclusion that we were having sex. We got out of the shower and went right to my bedroom. We had sex twice in a row, took a nap, and then had sex again in the morning.
At around 7am I made coffee and called a cab to take me back to my car. Amy rode with me then continued on to her house.
The real problem is that Amy and Kay are kind of friends. I don't see good things happening with this situation.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
