Me Shallow, You Young Buck 12/11/2009
I really hate to kick a dead horse but I once again feel it absolutely necessary to share with you the latest batch of text messages fromWestside Story. If only just to show you that I’m not crazy! He really is that cheesy. So here goes… WSS: How are you today? Me: Fine. And you? WSS: Well…I DID get paid today. And I SUPPOSE I could be talked into making lasagna later, or something. *trying not to be a pest* Me: Sorry babe but I’m stuffed. I made myself a dinner of Snickers bars and Reese’s peanut butter cups. WSS: Lol who said I wanted to share?! *being smartass* I was just looking for an angle. Me: I see WSS: I figure it’s a delicate balance between keeping you entertained by my attraction and being bored. I expect I can get away with pushing my luck a LITTLE. Haha Me: Maybe another time WSS: Ok, but give me an excuse not to hit on you. Cause it’s a strong impulse on my part. And there you have it, folks *swallowing my own vomit* Now, for the story you’ve all been waiting for. My shallow hookup with a 26 year old. I’ve taken to calling him Youngbuck. So, despite his inability to write out an educated coherent email he was certainly able to hold his own during an actual conversation. We seemed to be on the same page in regards to dating, relationships and life in general. I was pleasantly surprised. If he looked even half as good in person as he did in his posted pictures I was in for a real treat. We met a few nights later and guess what? He did! He looked just like his pictures. I was getting the real deal. We had a few drinks and got to know each other a little better. In the back of my head I kept waiting for him to call me “dude” or “hooka” but not once did those words slip from his pretty pouty lips. But as there usually is, there was just one thing… His eyes. Youngbuck was wearing a pair of sunglasses. Inside. At night. Or rather they were tinted glasses? Not quite David Caruso style but just enough where I couldn’t look him in the eye when talking to him. At first it wasn’t such a big deal but after a while it really began to get on my nerves. I’d seen his pictures and I knew that he had both eyes. He didn’t seem to have a lazy eye either so I was seriously confused. So much so that I was losing my train of thought while trying to unleash my super power of being able to look through steel and tinted glass. Finally, after I was tired of having a conversation with a reflection of myself I asked him if he could take off his glasses. He explained to me that his eyesight was poor and without them he wouldn’t be able to see. I figured that would be perfect. I would be able to take off my makeup and put on my PJ’s without him noticing. Yep, I’m classy like that. He didn’t buy it. So, the glasses stayed on. Here’s where it gets weird(er). He left the glasses on during sex. Oh, sorry, I didn’t give you much of a heads up on that one, did I? Would you have expected anything less from me than to end up in bed? Please. I cut him some slack on the glasses in my living room but the bedroom? How bad does your eyesight have to be to wear glasses during sex? Plus, if his glasses are tinted and my bedroom lights are out, then chances are you can’t see shit, right? But, I let it drop because he was a good ride. Here’s where our age difference becomes apparent. He’s 26, I’m 32 (as of last Friday, fuck you very much). I’m all for a good romp in the sack but this guy takes it to a whole new level. He is single handedly keeping Trojan in business. Seriously. Five times in one night?!? He even woke me up at 2:30 in the morning to get his groove on. Hello lube. He’s come over twice after that and it’s the same thing. For God’s sake! In three dates I’m over it. I enjoy his company but just getting a text message from him makes my coochy dry up and crawl inside my uterus. I never thought in my wildest dreams I would ever be tired of sex. Quick, if you look out your window I’ll bet you see that pig flying too. As is my luck, on date number three, Youngbuck told me that he “really” liked me and was having “feelings”. Ugh. Really? Now what? Nice guy or not, that “spark” is just not there with him either. I don’t know why but it isn’t. Perhaps I’m holding onto the romantic notion of chemistry a little too much but the moment he mentioned “settling down” with him, my innards curled up and I wanted him out…fast. Comments Comments are closed. |