Tiny Balls

I've begun phasing Bartender out of the picture because I've noticed some disturbing personal hygiene habits. On the ME front, things are going relatively well, except for the fact that she can't stay out and we keep having sex on her neighbor's couch and floor.

Two weeks ago I stayed over Bartender's house after a night of bar hopping. We had sex several times and when I was about to finish she said "cum on my face" which of course I obliged. I also came on her chest once later that night, then we passed out.

Fast forward to me getting jolted out of bed by a terrible buzzing noise at 9:30am. It was an alarm, which was something I've never heard at Bartender's house before. I nudged her and said "what's up with that?", and without moving she said "I'm working brunch today". I got up, put on my pants, then went to the bathroom to take a leak. When I came out Bartender had her pants on and was buttoning up her black dress shirt for work. I sat on her bed and started pulling on my boots, and she went into the bathroom. Three minutes later she came out and said "Do you want to walk together". It's at this point that I realized she wasn't going to take a shower before going to work.

Call me obsessive compulsive but I was grossed out that she would go to work, where she serves food and drinks, funked up from sex and with my cum all over her. Think about that next time you see something in your waitresses hair at a restaurant. I'm sure worse atrocities take place in kitchens all over the city, I just don't want to know about them, much less sleep with them.

It gets worse, for me at least.

Last Thursday I had bartender over for dinner and to watch a movie. After the movie we went to bed and I went down on her. While I was down there I noticed a tiny little ball of something on my tongue and pulled it off with my fingers and went back to work. A minute later I noticed another little ball on my tongue, but this time I investigated further and realized what it was. The tiny little ball was toilet paper that had rolled itself into a nub. I felt around and there were more. I stopped, I couldn't continue with the combined knowledge that she doesn't seem to shower often enough and that I was now encountering tiny wads of toilet paper on her vagina.

Let's just move on.

Things with ME are going well except for the minor inconvenience that her mother lives with her and she can't sleep out. It has its pros and cons, the cons being that we are reduced to quickies at my house followed by an hour in the car driving her home. The alternative is having sex at her neighbor's house, which needless to say is odd. I was hoping those days were behind me after I graduated high school.

Logistics aside, I like ME. I think she's a fantastic person. She's very smart (a doctor), compassionate, well traveled, well read, knows a lot about art, is opinionated but open to new ideas, etc. However, she lacks some things that I always thought would be important to me. For instance, I love the ocean and sailing, and as I've said before she is afraid of the water and can't swim. Actually, she doesn't like the outdoors in general. Camping, hiking, white water rafting, these things don't interest her. Lastly, and probably most importantly, ME is pretty high maintenance. She likes and is used to the finer things in life. As an example, on Sunday she told me that she would only drive German cars, and I don't think she was referring to Volkswagen's. She cited safety as the reason, but I bet she wouldn't drive a Volvo, one of the safest cars on the road.

What is interesting to me is that these things don't seem to be deal breakers.

Meep Meep

Last night I grabbed a bite to eat with ME at Zaytinya, then we had a cocktail at Proof after. While we were having a drink I witnessed one of the most bizarre date exit strategies ever employed by a man.

ME and I were sitting on the couch, which is fairly large and can seat about six, when another couple came in and sat on the far end. The guy was a little older than I and wearing a suit. The woman was a bit younger, blond, cute, wearing a short dress and heels. The guy looked familiar to me and after a few minutes I placed the face and realized he works for one of my vendors. We met once or twice before in person two years ago and have spoken on the phone several times. However, I don't think he recognized me and I wasn't anxious to strike up a conversation with him, so I basically ignored him while he and the woman shared a drink.

An hour later ME and I were getting ready to leave. Me excused herself to go to the restroom, so I sat there and finished my wine. While I was sitting there I heard the other couple have the following conversation:

Guy: Well, I am going to head back to my office.
Girl: Now? It's 10:15.
Guy: Yeah, I have to go back for a while.
Girl: To your office!
Guy: Yeah. You can get home, right? Take a cab or something? You can get back?
Girl: Yes, great. I'll just take a cab home while you go to your office.

They were speaking in hushed voices, but the girl was getting pretty angry at the guy. As she spoke her volume would spike on certain words to stress her point. The guy, on the other hand, kept completely calm and monotone, which only seemed to make her angrier.

She continued:

Girl: I can take care of myself. I can cab home, or Metro. And you're going back to your office!

After this the guy said something I couldn't understand. At first I wasn't eaves dropping, but they hooked me in and now I wanted to hear what the debate was about. I was trying to piece together the conversation and construct the background story to this meeting.

I sensed history between the two, so that ruled out a first date. The guy seemed aloof and even distant, so maybe they were former flings having a reconciliatory get together. It could have been a break up, but everything up until the "I'm going to the office" comment was so civilized that this was unlikely. My money was on the story that they were former flings and the girl requested a meeting to try and patch things up, and the guy wasn't interested.

The girl was still muttering something to the dude while he signed his credit card receipt, then ME came back from the restroom. We were ready to leave, so I was momentarily distracted from the scene next to me as I stood up and reached for our coats. Then I saw a flash of grey go through my left peripheral vision and a blast of cold air rush at me from the front doors. When I looked up I saw the front doors slowly swinging shut and the dude was already thirty feet down the sidewalk and moving fast.

The girl yelled "Tom!" and scurried to get her coat and purse together. ME turned and asked what was going on but all I said was "Come on, grab your coat, we have to go outside". She was confused but did as I said.

We left a little after the girl, who was doing her best to chase after "Tom" in her high heels. When we got outside she was only about twenty feet from the front door and just standing there on the sidewalk looking left and right. Tom was gone. I mean out of sight like he vanished or dove under a car. That block in front of Proof is long, so he had to have been running to get out of sight so fast, it was amazing. He looked like an average guy but he ran like the Road Runner. All that was missing was the "Meep Meep".

As ME and I waited for cabs the girl stood on the corner, crying, and furiously dialing her cell phone. It was a sad scene. I almost asked her if she needed cash to get home, but I opted against it because I didn't want to make her situation worse by embarrassing her further.

I fished through the stack of business cards on my desk and found "Tom's" card. I would love to call him and ask him what happaned last night.

Natural Brazilian

I spent a lot of time this weekend with ME and had really enjoyed it. She has her quirks, but of all the girls I've dated in the past year or two she is by far the most intriguing. I will probably cut the Bartender loose soon and focus on ME.

Friday night I went to Proof in Chinatown with ME for drinks and I noticed that when you're out with a sexy girl other sexy girls pay extra attention to you. It's like having a reference with you, or gaining admittance to a club. It's cruel, though, because it's a chit you can't cash in. My married friends tell me that their wedding bands have a similar effect. Girls who would have never talked to them when they were single see the wedding band and are all over them.

Anyway, I had a great time with ME. We lounged around and talked for a while, and she told me a lot of very personal things about her marriage, and a relationship she was in after that that was also turbulent. I'm not exactly sure why I brought it up, perhaps in the interest of full disclosure, but I told ME about my pregnancy scare with Tiny last fall, and that she had an abortion. It's a polarizing topic and I wanted to bring it up sooner rather than later. She was cool about it, she didn't judge, she asked some questions about it then we moved on to other topics.

Sunday I took ME shooting and she has to be the worst shot in the history of guns. I gave her a thirty minute lesson on shooting and gun safety before we went into the range and she ignored everything I said. She held the gun wrong, she didn't aim, she was shooting all over the place. After a few shots I had to take the gun away from her and regroup. I told her "Forget about the target, let's just focus on safely getting a round down range". The problem was that her hands didn't seem strong enough to control the gun when she shot. The recoil torqued and twisted the gun so violently that she almost dropped it, which is more mental than anything. We shot for about 20 minutes before I pulled the plug on the date.

After shooting we went back to my house for some afternoon delight. The sex is great, and I continue to get horrible nail marks on my back, but what bothers me is that ME won't let me go down on her. One night she let me for about five minutes, but that was the only time. She always says the the same thing "No, I'm shy". She goes down on me, so it may seem like a great arrangement, but I genuinely like going down and I miss it.

Sunday I was making an attempt at going down and was in the general region for a few minutes and noticed that ME's pubic hair is very unusual - in a good way. She has a small landing strip of very short hair. But on either side of the landing strip there is nothing, no hair at all, and it doesn't look like it was waxed or shaved, I think it's natural. It looks like she trims the length of the hair she has, but I think that's it. I don't see any hair follicles other than the ones on the landing strip. There are no bumps, no shadows, no tiny hairs, nothing. Also, the hairs on the landing strip aren't in a perfect line. The get that formation ME would have had to pluck them, which I've never heard of.

I know what you're going to say, she waxes, and I'm telling you that does not appear to be the case. I've seen my fare share of vaginas and this is different. Even after a great Brazilian you can still see where the hair was. It's smooth, but not 100%, there is always evidence from where the hair used to be. Then, when it starts to grow back they come in very dark and thick. ME wasn't like that at all. I think she has very little hair, which is not logical because she has such black hair on her head. Maybe she had it lasered.

Can anyone explain?

Morning Duece

There are few things as awkward and uncomfortable as having to take your morning constitutional while a "house guest" from the evening before is still over. It stresses me out and usually leads to me rush the girl out the door in the morning. My guess is that most girls think I'm rushing them out of the house solely because I want to get rid of them. I do admit this is sometimes the case, but not always. Sometimes I really like the girl and don't want them to have to hear and smell me relieving myself.

I know it's natural and everyone does it, but let's face it, a smelly morning shit isn't sexy to anyone. It's an especially giant turn-off if you just met the person and/or it is the first time she stayed over your house. But what are we supposed to do?

Sure, you can march into the bathroom and smash away, embracing nature, but that's just uncouth early in the relationship. You can pretend your taking a shower, run the water, and try to take a really quiet crap, but even if you hide the sounds you still have to contend with the odor. Or you can rush the girl home and crap in peace, which is what I prefer. The problem here is you run the risk of sending the message "I loathe you and want you out of my home".

What I never understood is how a girl can wake up at my place and casually lounge around the house all morning. Doesn't she have to shit? I'm tap dancing around my place like Sammy Davis Jr and she's watching the Food Network. How is that possible that she doesn't have to go?

Maybe girls are on an evening shit schedule. My friend C-roc is a principal and can't shit in the morning, so he's on an evening schedule. He craps after dinner, which is counter intuitive to me because you're piling crap on top of crap. It only makes sense to me that you would want to clear your system out in the morning to make room for the day's meals.

I tried shifting to an evening schedule once. For a whole week I didn't allow myself to shit in the morning, I only went when I got home from work. It was impossible to convince my body this was the best plan. I was constipated and ornery all day and when I finally got home and would allow myself to go, I no longer had the urge. I'd force myself to go, and that just isn't the same. There was great potential of improving my love life, but my body had other plans.

My biggest fear is that I will postpone my morning shit so that I don't rush the girl out, but then have to take an emergency shit while she's still there. You know, one of those MyshitiscominginfivesecondswhetherIlikeitornot! shits. The ones where you're unbuttoning your pants as you run to the toilet to save time and hopefully avoid crapping in your pants like a child. It's never happened to me, but I dread it. The thought alone makes me cringe.

When I renovated my house I thought I was really clever and installed the biggest, most efficient ventilation fan I could find. It moves more air than a car painting booth. The problem is that it's loud, so as soon as you turn that thing on everyone in the house knows what you're doing in there. You click on the switch and the motor cycles up, then the air start sucking out of the room: Varoooooooom-annnnnhhhhhHHHH-WHOOOOOOOOSHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!.... I may as well hang a sign on the door announcing what I'm doing in the bathroom.

The best is when I stay over a girls place. I have a built in excuse to go home, I just say I have to let my dog out.

NYE 2010

I started off the new year with uncharacteristically responsible behavior that ultimately led to a rather low-key NYE with ME. Overall I like her, but there are some things that she does that lead me to believe she's higher maintenance than I like.

First and foremost, I've quite chewing tobacco. My habit has steadily increased over the past year to the point where it had more than doubled. I was going through two tins of dip a week, which averages two or three dips a day, whereas I used to hold myself to just one per day. As a result of the increase my gums hurt, my teeth could use a whitening, and I noticed I was getting a lot of sore throats. I needed to stop. I had my last dip just before I went to bed on my birthday and when I was done I threw the tin in the garbage. I haven't had one since and it has been more than a week. I miss it most when I read at night, which is when I used to chew, but I miss it much less than I expected I would.

I stayed in DC for NYE instead of going to the Caribbean with my friends, which I figure saved me at least a few grand. It is nice to start off the year with money in the bank. I spent the night with ME at Lima on K Street which was not my top choice of venue for the evening.

ME came over to my place early on NYE so she could get ready at my place. Before she went into my room to change she asked me if I would like to get ready first. I was already dressed to go out, which meant that she obviously thought I was under dressed for the evening. I wasn't sure how to respond. My first thought was "I don't care what she thinks, I'm not changing", then I got offended. I decided to buy myself some time and told her "No, you go in first". While she was in my room I got a little worked up. I went from offended to angry to indignant. I was wearing what I had on and that was that.

Fifteen minutes later ME emerged from my room and I was stunned. She's a good looking woman and has a nice body, but I was completely unprepared for how beautiful she looked. She had on a simple silver dress and giant black stilettos. The dress was strapless and fit so perfectly it was like she had been dipped in silver. I must have done something very kind in a former life, like started an orphanage or cured a terrible disease.

After seeing her I didn't even argue, I just went into my room and put on a black suit. While I was getting ready I thought to myself "even if Brad Pitt was in my closet, and I zipped him open and wore him around like a suit all night, I am still going to look ridiculous next to that creature in my living room".

As we were about to leave the house I told ME that we would have to walk to about two blocks to catch a cab, to which she responded "I can't walk two blocks in these heels". I had tried calling cabs earlier in the night and they weren't even answering the phones, it was too busy of a night for them. I even called the car service my office uses and they didn't have anyone they could send over. This could be a problem. I tried to downplay how far it was but ME said "Would you mind getting a cab and coming back to pick me up?" The principle of this aggravated me. How could she wear shoes she couldn't walk in? She looks stunning, yes, but if she can't go anywhere what good is it? Maybe if she looked a little less fantastic she would be more mobile. Whatever, I fetched the cab. The way she looked I would have done it naked covered in peanut butter if she asked.

I'm not sure how we ended up at Lima for the night. There were all sorts of great options available to us, but when it came time to make plans we both dropped the ball and Lima was the only place of the seven we called that would seat us at a reasonable hour. I'd had never been to Lima before, so I wasn't sure what to expect. It was disappointing. The place is just cheesy and trashy. It was everything I wanted to avoid on NYE but we made do and had a good time together.

We left Lima at 2am and came back to my place for our first "sleepover". The sex is great, I don't have any complaints other than I seem to get a lot of cuts and bruises, especially on my back. She has sharp nails and really digs in. My friend C-roc suggested I put mittens on her to stop the clawing, which is a great visual. One thing that is a little quirky about ME is that she likes to have sex on my couch. We were fooling around in my bed at 4am and she said "Can we go upstairs?". It's fine with me, I can't figure out the turn-on with the couch, though. Also, my tenant that lives below me must have thought I was torturing some girl all night. ME's a screamer. Loud, violent, high-pitched screams like a seagull. It's a stark contrast to Tiny who used to unceremoniously announce in monotone "I just came".

There is a challenge with every girl, and with ME it has to do with the ambient temperature of whatever room she is in. She is never comfortable. It's either too hot or too cold. I spent all night fiddling with the thermostat. She can detect a two degree variance in the air temp. But now I know, her ideal temp is 69 degrees. Any colder or hotter and she squawks. That got annoying very quickly.

She has a kid

I had a strange weekend.

I've been talking to my buddy Uncle Charlie about New Years Eve plans. Plans started with he and I going to Cartegna, Colombia for a week, but when tickets spiked from $300 to $1700, I told him I couldn't swing it. Uncle Charlie, who is a very successful hedge fund manager said "Well, I have six hours left on my plane time-share that I need to use by the end of the year, I can contribute that if it helps." Private jet, yeah, that helps. Plan B was take the plane to Vieques, Puerto Rico and my other buddy Chavez was pulled into the mix. Some sun, surfing, and drinking lots of cheap beer at beachfront dive bars was exactly what I was hoping for. Plan B then spiraled into renting a 50' sailboat and cruising the Caribbean. This is something I've always wanted to do so I was willing to spend the $5K the trip was going to cost me. But when the guys heard there was an ever-so-slight chance we could encounter pirates on the boat the trip morphed into renting a house on Saint Martin for a week at a total cost of, like, $40,000US. To say that I can't afford that is such a gross overstatement that I can't even write it without giggling. There are people in the world who can afford to do this type of thing and I am not one of them. I literally would go bankrupt. But Uncle Charlie said "just pay what you can, we got the rest". Anything I could comfortably contribute would be a rounding error, like the tax or electric bill for the rental, and I'm not OK with that. So, with tons of guilt I bailed on the trip this morning. I would love to go, but not if someone else has to pay for me.

Friday night I went out with Bartender. She got pretty hammered again. I'm not one to judge, that whole "those who live in glass houses" thing, but I think she is more than just a recreational drinker. She excused herself to go to the bathroom and I thought I saw her up at the bar doing a shot by herself. While she was gone I looked at my phone and I had text messages from Bear and Madonna wanting to meet up for late night antics. Bear I could understand, we have a history of that sort of thing. Madonna was odd, though, because I haven't spoken to her since the threw up all over my house on Halloween. I ignored both and ended up at Bartender's house.

Saturday night I went to dinner with ME in Dupont. I could probably write a few thousand words on the 25 minute conversation that took place before we even ordered dinner. ME peppered me with questions...I wouldn't say it was an interrogation, but it wasn't a conversation either, it fell somewhere in the middle. I was knocked back on my heels early on and in a desperate attempt to get the spotlight off me I made a desperate move. I knew that ME was in her late 30's and divorced. I figured she didn't have many years left to have kids, so asked her if she wanted them. I felt like it was a cheap shot, but I also felt cornered a little. Her answer "Well, I have one already". Serves me right.

I was completely lost for thirty seconds. I didn't see that coming at all. Why didn't she tell me earlier? Should she have? Why didn't I ask her? Does it matter to me? I've never had sex with a mommy before. Did the vagina feel different? I don't think so? Is that why she was "shy" and didn't let me do down on her? Was there a scar from the c-section? Did she even have a c-section? Did nursing make her nipples so long? I wonder if I look panicked right now?


It has to be hard. I am sure she doesn't want to scare guys off by telling them early on that she has a kid. Maybe she waits to see if she likes the guy then tells them. This is new ground for me. Surprisingly, I am OK with her having a kid.

Stuck in the snow

I was walking the dog last night and came across a car that was stuck on the side of the road. It looked like the driver either spun and hit the curb, or the car slid while parking resulting in the car sitting precariously close to another parked car. I tied the dog's leash to a fence on the sidewalk and tapped on the trunk. The driver rolled down the window and asked if I could lend her a hand. I said sure and told her to point the wheels strait.

After some slipping and sliding, and her accidently gunning it in reverse once, backing onto the sidewalk and scaring the shit out of me in the process, we finally managed to get her out of the two inches of snow she was stuck in. She then got out of the car and thanked me.

I recognized the girl. She has a dog like mine and I talked to her one night while we were both out walking the hounds. I remember thinking she was really attractive, but I haven't seen her since.

Anyway, she thanked me for the help and we exchanged names. She got back in her car and before she drove off she rolled down her passenger window and said "I live in that house there, stop by if you ever need anything." I said thanks and she left.

She was cute, I hope I run into her again.