When Girls Cook Dinner

DC's pollen declared jihad on my eyes this week. They are basically swollen shut. I stayed home from work yesterday because I can barely see I didn't feel like answering a thousand questions about why I was "crying".

Tuesday night Tiny invited two of her friends and I over for dinner. She is a good little cook, but like all single girls I've come across, she can't conceptualize what a "man's" portion of food is. Girls plan dinner like they are cooking for two petite girls. Until they get married they can't get their arms around how much we eat. I learned a long time ago that if a girl is cooking me dinner I need to eat a medium-sized meal before heading to her place or risk looking like a gluttonous fool. Don't get me wrong, any meal I don't have to cook is a good meal, this is simply an observation. Ladies, as a rule of thumb, we can eat two to three times what you normally would or could.

My sister talked to Stella yesterday. The conversation went something like this:

Sister: Are dating anyone?
Stella: No, I haven't had time to lately.
Sister: Good. My brother has been hounding me to get your number, would you be interested in going on a date with him?
Stella: Ummm......OK....

Sis got me Stella's email address and told me to set up a date with her. Three things. First, I wouldn't say I've been hounding her. Inquiring, yes. Hounding, not so much. Second, why would she give me her email address and not her phone number? I hate emailing girls, it sets an awkward tone right off the bat. Lastly, I questioned Sis in great detail about the tone, duration, and facial gestures of Stella regarding the "Um [long pause], OK" comment, and it doesn't sound good. My interpretation would be "Ugh, OK, but only because you're asking me to." Stella works nights, so I'm going to take her for an afternoon motorcycle ride (if she agrees to go out with me and actually follows through).

Tiny leaves tomorrow for a ten day trip and Beads just got back into town last night from visiting her family. It's nice how that worked out.

Last night I went to a Harley dealership to pick up an oil filter, and while I was there I looked at helmets. The shop wasn't huge, and I saw a sales girl kind of stalking me from across the showroom. As soon as I picked up a helmet she ran over and gave me a weak sales pitch. At first she just asked about helmets, then about what kind of bike I rode, then, with all the subtlety of a 2x4 being smashed against a knee-cap, she said "So, does your girlfriend ride with you?"

The sales girl was skanky, no, actually, slutty-skanky. Skanky alone doesn't fully convey the extreme sluttiness. She was young, probably only 25, but you can tell that she had been ridden hard and put away wet many times. She wore too much makeup, had on really tight jeans and spike heels, and giant fake boobs. She was a red hot mess. Every time she spoke to me I had a flash of her bent over a workbench in the shop getting nailed by a (or many) mechanics. I said "No, but my wife does", and she promptly scurried off, perhaps back to the workbench.

I wasn't going to bring this up because I don't know for sure what the story is, but it's been on my mind. I've been emailing Blue, and she is planning a trip down to DC for a visit, so on a whim Monday afternoon I Googled her name. I was shocked to see that there were a great many porn references associated with her name, and several of them were in French, and one even made mention of her being Canadian. Since Blue speaks French, and is from Canada, those are strange coincidences, especially since I didn't mention either in my search. I simply typed in her name and Google spit all this out. She did fuck like a champ. Who knows?

Most would say my moral compass is off by a few degrees, but I think this would be a deal breaker, even for me.