At yet another of the many restaurants I used to work in, I’d become close friends with 3 of my co-workers. There was Janet who was a fellow server and my partner in crime. Jake was the openly gay bartender/model who made me laugh like no other. He was so ridiculously good looking you wouldn’t have blamed him if he was a snob, yet he was surprisingly down to earth. Then there was Brian. Brian was the general manager that I began secretly dating. Everyone knew Brian and I were friends, but we figured it’d be best to keep the fact that we saw each other naked most nights after work a secret. Jake and I also became closer and closer the more time we spent together. He was so easy to talk to that sometimes hours would go by of just chatting about life. There weren’t many moments when we weren’t laughing together since we had the same sense of humor. We loved to drink wine and people watch and point out the hottest guys that would go by. Sometimes as a side job, Jake performed as a drag queen. On Halloween since we both had to work, he came dressed in one of his drag outfits. It was a patent leather thong leotard with fishnet stockings, black stilettos, a long brown wig. He wore make-up that made him look like the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Not only was he the most attractive man I’d ever met, but he also made a more attractive female then most of the women I knew. I told him it wasn’t fair, only one gender should have to feel envious of him. He laughed and told me I definitely didn’t need to feel any envy since I was the most beautiful girl he knew. I told him flattery would get him everywhere. He always seemed to be my biggest fan and was so complimentary.
A few weeks later the secret relationship Brian and I had was exposed. We’d been out together one night and a co-worker had seen us kissing. Of course that meant within 2 days the entire restaurant staff had heard about our relationship. Including Jake and Janet. Janet told me she had suspected something might have been going on and was happy for us since she adored us both. Jake didn’t react in quite the same manner. I assumed he was upset that I’d kept a secret from him so I apologized for not telling him sooner. He shrugged, mumbled something about being really busy behind the bar and avoided making eye contact with me. I felt badly that he seemed upset I’d been keeping a secret, but figured he’d get over it by the end of the evening. At closing time, Jake asked if he could speak to me privately in the back room. I followed him there and he closed the door. He looked at me with sadness in his eyes and began to tell me how when he’d heard about Brian and I, he had been a little heartbroken because he really liked me. I told him I liked him too, that I was sorry for not telling him but that this didn’t change our friendship. He said “Parker, you’re not getting it. It hurts because I like you so much. I wanted to be the one to date you.” Ummmm…..??? I started to smile thinking he must be playing a joke on me, that is until he leaned in and kissed me. I couldn’t speak because of the state of shock I was now in. I just stared at him for a moment until I found my voice then said, “But Jake…you’re gay. Remember?” He said that he goes both ways, he likes boys and girls. I reminded him that we’d spent many hours pointing out the hottest guys that would walk by us. He reminded me he’d also pointed out hot girls. I told him I’d figured he was looking at their clothing as inspiration for his drag show attire, not because he wanted to get in their pants. Then he got frustrated and said it was all a moot point anyway since I was now dating Brian. He said he hoped we were happy and then he left the back room leaving me to be stunned in silence.
After that Jake and I didn’t really hang out anymore. He was friendly enough at work, but the relationship was never the same. Sometimes I wonder what I would have done if Jake had told me how he’d felt and I hadn’t been with Brian, and what it would’ve been like to date a mostly gay man. On one hand it’d be nice to date someone in touch with his feminine side, on the other hand I don’t think I could be with a man who’d be borrowing my high heels, and who’s ass looked far better in a thong than mine ever could.
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Thursday, July 29, 2010
Thursday, July 22, 2010
The Almost Husband Part 2
.....I got caught up in that beautiful moment and found myself saying, Yes! Yes, of course I’ll marry you! The wait staff was snapping our picture and everyone was smiling. Here we were on this beautiful island, I had the most gorgeous ring on my finger and this man who loved me. It was a happy evening. We called our families to share the news of our engagement. Then we got back home and reality sunk in. I loved Drew but I wasn’t sure I was in love with him. I began to panic. This panic led to an escape to Paris for a month long study abroad program with my best girlfriend Raven. She was getting married in 3 months and wanted a last hurrah while I needed time away to sort out my thoughts and feelings. Drew was completely supportive of this trip which only made it harder to realize the possibility of this not working out.
During my time away the main thing that brought me to the harsh realization that my love for Drew was more of a non romantic love was the fact that I didn’t miss him, not really. Not the way a girl should miss her fiancé being apart for a month. Also the fact that I had to stop myself numerous times from cheating with several cute boys who were closer to my age and very persistent. At the end of the month Drew was meeting me at a hotel he’d booked in Paris, and we were going on a Mediterranean cruise to celebrate his birthday. On the day he arrived and knocked on the hotel room door, I was sitting in a robe drinking champagne out of the bottle and crying. I acted like I’d been watching a sad movie so he wouldn’t know I’d been crying about our doomed relationship. What should have been an amazing cruise turned into a time of many arguments. I started picking fights and I felt badly for it yet couldn’t seem to stop myself.
When we got back home, a funny thing happened. As I was trying to figure out how I was going to break up with Drew, he turned the tables and broke up with me instead. For some reason I felt devastated. Here is what I thought I’d wanted yet when he said the words out loud it didn’t seem right. I tearfully tried to give back the ring, and he insisted I keep it and sell it. For some reason him breaking up with me sent me into panic mode and instead of accepting this as the right thing, I fought it and after many talks convinced him to give it one more shot. I decided I would become everything he seemed to want in a future wife. I would become the domestic housewife type if it killed me. I even tried to host a dinner for his best friends, and I made the only thing I knew how to cook. A chicken and cheese casserole which consisted mostly of canned soup and precooked chicken. Looking back that was pretty embarrassing. During this process I became insecure since I was trying to be something I wasn’t, and he became irritated and realized the things he loved about me he wouldn’t want to change after all, it’s just that we couldn’t seem to work together. The moment I snapped out of my Stepford wife phase was one afternoon when we were arguing right before we stepped into Drew’s brother’s birthday party. He snapped at me and yelled “you’re just so goddamned insecure!” Right then his brother opened the door and I had no choice but to blink back the tears that were forming and ignore the anger that was beginning to burn in the pit of my stomach. I said my hellos and faked good spirits, all the while hearing his comment ring in my ears. No man had ever called me insecure. I had never been that insecure girl who changed herself for a man. I was so angry that he would say that to me, and even more angry that he was sort of right. I had become someone I was not a fan of, however he was way out of line in his delivery.
As soon as we left the party I turned to him and told him that he was way out of line and I would never again be spoken to in that way. He looked surprised by my reaction and apologized. Then I told him that he was right when he’d tried to break things off, that this obviously wasn’t working. I told him I should never have tried to change myself. That night we broke up for good as amicably as any two people could have. I sadly sold my beautiful ring and used the money to move into a new apartment, and that’s where I began the next part of my journey in this crazy thing called life.
During my time away the main thing that brought me to the harsh realization that my love for Drew was more of a non romantic love was the fact that I didn’t miss him, not really. Not the way a girl should miss her fiancé being apart for a month. Also the fact that I had to stop myself numerous times from cheating with several cute boys who were closer to my age and very persistent. At the end of the month Drew was meeting me at a hotel he’d booked in Paris, and we were going on a Mediterranean cruise to celebrate his birthday. On the day he arrived and knocked on the hotel room door, I was sitting in a robe drinking champagne out of the bottle and crying. I acted like I’d been watching a sad movie so he wouldn’t know I’d been crying about our doomed relationship. What should have been an amazing cruise turned into a time of many arguments. I started picking fights and I felt badly for it yet couldn’t seem to stop myself.
When we got back home, a funny thing happened. As I was trying to figure out how I was going to break up with Drew, he turned the tables and broke up with me instead. For some reason I felt devastated. Here is what I thought I’d wanted yet when he said the words out loud it didn’t seem right. I tearfully tried to give back the ring, and he insisted I keep it and sell it. For some reason him breaking up with me sent me into panic mode and instead of accepting this as the right thing, I fought it and after many talks convinced him to give it one more shot. I decided I would become everything he seemed to want in a future wife. I would become the domestic housewife type if it killed me. I even tried to host a dinner for his best friends, and I made the only thing I knew how to cook. A chicken and cheese casserole which consisted mostly of canned soup and precooked chicken. Looking back that was pretty embarrassing. During this process I became insecure since I was trying to be something I wasn’t, and he became irritated and realized the things he loved about me he wouldn’t want to change after all, it’s just that we couldn’t seem to work together. The moment I snapped out of my Stepford wife phase was one afternoon when we were arguing right before we stepped into Drew’s brother’s birthday party. He snapped at me and yelled “you’re just so goddamned insecure!” Right then his brother opened the door and I had no choice but to blink back the tears that were forming and ignore the anger that was beginning to burn in the pit of my stomach. I said my hellos and faked good spirits, all the while hearing his comment ring in my ears. No man had ever called me insecure. I had never been that insecure girl who changed herself for a man. I was so angry that he would say that to me, and even more angry that he was sort of right. I had become someone I was not a fan of, however he was way out of line in his delivery.
As soon as we left the party I turned to him and told him that he was way out of line and I would never again be spoken to in that way. He looked surprised by my reaction and apologized. Then I told him that he was right when he’d tried to break things off, that this obviously wasn’t working. I told him I should never have tried to change myself. That night we broke up for good as amicably as any two people could have. I sadly sold my beautiful ring and used the money to move into a new apartment, and that’s where I began the next part of my journey in this crazy thing called life.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
The Almost Husband
For a few months I worked as a cocktail waitress for a blues club which I’m not sure could be classified as “work.” We had quite a bit of lenience since our manager was more like a friend than a boss, and many nights instead of cleaning up at the end of the night we’d end up on the dance floor with a cocktail in hand. One night a private party for a law firm came in, and I half joked that I was going to bag myself a rich lawyer. I did end up chatting and flirting with one of the lawyers, who I found out later just happened to own and run that law firm. He definitely wasn’t the best looking man I’d ever seen. He appeared to have permanent dark circles under his eyes, a slightly crooked nose, and looked a bit like a cross between Billy Joel and one of the trolls from Lord of the Rings. On top of that he looked at least 15 years older than me, but there was a confidence about him I found very sexy. He told me his name was Drew and asked if he could take me out sometime. I figured what the hell and gave him my number.
He called me 2 days later and asked if I would join him to watch a UCLA basketball game and go to lunch. I agreed and we had our first date. He picked me up in his Porsche, and took me to a fancy restaurant where we got to know each other a little better. Drew told me about his past, how he'd joined the army to get his degree and lived off of student loans and top ramen while he went to law school. Instead of joining an already established law firm he took a risk and started his own personal injury practice which ended up being a huge success. I told him a bit about myself, and how one of my passions was to travel the world but at the time I hadn’t been able to travel much yet. He looked me in the eyes, smiled and asked if I would mind if he changed that. I smiled and thought to myself, nope, don’t mind at all!
He was a man of his word and by the time we’d been dating for a couple of months we’d already been on a cruise around Mexico as well as two island vacations. When I’d told him I was only 22 on our first date he thought I was joking and even chuckled until he realized from my silent stare that I was serious. He made a joke about how his friends, after meeting me, would now definitely know he was having a midlife crises. I thought he shouldn't worry about that, since I was pretty sure they’d already guessed by the tiny black Porsche he had parked outside. He had seemed concerned about the age difference at first, but then hadn’t mentioned it again until things started getting more serious. We started having argumentative conversations about marriage and kids. We had slightly different views on the topic. He had a plan of wanting to be married with children within the next couple of years. When I thought about being married with children that soon I had to stop myself from throwing up a little in my mouth. His plan sounded an awful lot like a prison sentence to me and I wasn’t sure why it would appeal to anyone. I just wasn’t ready to think about those things yet and eventually he told me he was going to have to date other people in order to find someone who was ready. I told him to go ahead if that’s what he wanted to do, and I didn’t think it would really bother me. I was having fun with him but didn’t think he was the one for me. That is until one night when I asked what he was up to, figuring he’d be around to hang out with me as usual, and he told me he had a date. I felt my heart sink, and I realized just how much it bothered me and how much I actually cared for this man.
A few days later I sat him down and pleaded my case to him about how I thought we should really give this a go, that I didn’t want him to see other people, and that it was illogical to try to find someone to plug into your pre-existing relationship plan. I told him it makes more sense to find someone you love and build a life plan together as you go along, to see if a relationship works first and then fill in the blanks. I felt pretty proud of my argument, especially when he agreed with all that I’d said and wanted to give it a another shot. From that point on we became pretty inseparable, and then one day Drew told me he was in love with me. I hadn’t realized I loved him too until I heard myself saying those 3 words back. I came to learn both the best and worst qualities about Drew. The best being his drive, generosity, and humor, as well as being down to earth despite his success. The worst being his need to control, his temper, and his attachment to smoking pot every night. Our age difference proved to be a bit of an issue at times as well. We didn’t always see eye to eye or want to do the same types of things, and I wasn't fond of the moments when people assumed Drew was my father.
My most vivid memory of this was the day he bought me a car. Right before the dealer closed the sale, Drew stepped away to take a work call and the dealer asked me if i lived in the area or was just visiting 'my dad' from college. I turned us away from Drew and whispered that if he wanted to sell this car it'd be best to keep any further comments of that nature to himself. I’d never dated someone so successful and wealthy before Drew, and I won’t say that him having an amazing 3 story mansion on the beach wasn’t incredible. And I’d be lying if I said that money never being an issue wasn’t a great perk, since it allowed for things like last minute tickets to the super bowl or jumping on a plane to Vegas for a VIP weekend. I never used him for his money like some women had in his past, and I think he respected that about me.
Several months later after much persistence from Drew I moved out of my tiny Hollywood apartment and into his beach house. When we were nearing our year anniversary a couple of things were happening. 1) I was beginning to wonder if I loved Drew more as a friend than romantically or sexually. 2) He was constantly bringing up the topic of getting engaged. I kept telling him I wasn’t ready for that, I thought it was still too soon. We were arguing more than we had in the past, and I started feeling the age gap more than ever. Our lives were just so different. I still liked to go out drinking with friends and was figuring out what I wanted to be when I grew up while he was already settled in his career and enjoyed smoking pot , eating twinkies, then falling asleep in front of the T.V. every night. Whenever he’d bring up getting engaged and I’d object to the idea, he would just brush off my protests and tell me I was only nervous because I worry too much. The more hesitant I became, the more pushy he got until one vacation day in Key West, we were off on a tiny island having an amazing 5 star dinner, and it was time for dessert. I remember the moment this way. The waiter brought out some sort of chocolate dessert and I remember thinking, I didn’t order this, that’s odd. The waiter then opened the chocolate dessert, which turns out was a heart shaped box made of chocolate, and I remember thinking, Is that rice? Why would they put white rice inside of chocolate? Turns out it wasn’t rice, it was rock salt and while examining the dessert I somehow didn’t notice the enormous diamond ring sitting in the middle of it. I looked around and wondered why everyone appeared to be staring at me, then noticed Drew to my left down on one knee. Oh my God. My heart started pounding as realization started to creep in, and the next thing I know Drew is saying something like: Parker, will you make me the happiest man on earth and be my wife? It felt difficult to breathe and I couldn’t seem to think clearly. This was such a beautiful moment and I had no idea what the next word out of my mouth was going to be……
To be continued……..
He called me 2 days later and asked if I would join him to watch a UCLA basketball game and go to lunch. I agreed and we had our first date. He picked me up in his Porsche, and took me to a fancy restaurant where we got to know each other a little better. Drew told me about his past, how he'd joined the army to get his degree and lived off of student loans and top ramen while he went to law school. Instead of joining an already established law firm he took a risk and started his own personal injury practice which ended up being a huge success. I told him a bit about myself, and how one of my passions was to travel the world but at the time I hadn’t been able to travel much yet. He looked me in the eyes, smiled and asked if I would mind if he changed that. I smiled and thought to myself, nope, don’t mind at all!
He was a man of his word and by the time we’d been dating for a couple of months we’d already been on a cruise around Mexico as well as two island vacations. When I’d told him I was only 22 on our first date he thought I was joking and even chuckled until he realized from my silent stare that I was serious. He made a joke about how his friends, after meeting me, would now definitely know he was having a midlife crises. I thought he shouldn't worry about that, since I was pretty sure they’d already guessed by the tiny black Porsche he had parked outside. He had seemed concerned about the age difference at first, but then hadn’t mentioned it again until things started getting more serious. We started having argumentative conversations about marriage and kids. We had slightly different views on the topic. He had a plan of wanting to be married with children within the next couple of years. When I thought about being married with children that soon I had to stop myself from throwing up a little in my mouth. His plan sounded an awful lot like a prison sentence to me and I wasn’t sure why it would appeal to anyone. I just wasn’t ready to think about those things yet and eventually he told me he was going to have to date other people in order to find someone who was ready. I told him to go ahead if that’s what he wanted to do, and I didn’t think it would really bother me. I was having fun with him but didn’t think he was the one for me. That is until one night when I asked what he was up to, figuring he’d be around to hang out with me as usual, and he told me he had a date. I felt my heart sink, and I realized just how much it bothered me and how much I actually cared for this man.
A few days later I sat him down and pleaded my case to him about how I thought we should really give this a go, that I didn’t want him to see other people, and that it was illogical to try to find someone to plug into your pre-existing relationship plan. I told him it makes more sense to find someone you love and build a life plan together as you go along, to see if a relationship works first and then fill in the blanks. I felt pretty proud of my argument, especially when he agreed with all that I’d said and wanted to give it a another shot. From that point on we became pretty inseparable, and then one day Drew told me he was in love with me. I hadn’t realized I loved him too until I heard myself saying those 3 words back. I came to learn both the best and worst qualities about Drew. The best being his drive, generosity, and humor, as well as being down to earth despite his success. The worst being his need to control, his temper, and his attachment to smoking pot every night. Our age difference proved to be a bit of an issue at times as well. We didn’t always see eye to eye or want to do the same types of things, and I wasn't fond of the moments when people assumed Drew was my father.
My most vivid memory of this was the day he bought me a car. Right before the dealer closed the sale, Drew stepped away to take a work call and the dealer asked me if i lived in the area or was just visiting 'my dad' from college. I turned us away from Drew and whispered that if he wanted to sell this car it'd be best to keep any further comments of that nature to himself. I’d never dated someone so successful and wealthy before Drew, and I won’t say that him having an amazing 3 story mansion on the beach wasn’t incredible. And I’d be lying if I said that money never being an issue wasn’t a great perk, since it allowed for things like last minute tickets to the super bowl or jumping on a plane to Vegas for a VIP weekend. I never used him for his money like some women had in his past, and I think he respected that about me.
Several months later after much persistence from Drew I moved out of my tiny Hollywood apartment and into his beach house. When we were nearing our year anniversary a couple of things were happening. 1) I was beginning to wonder if I loved Drew more as a friend than romantically or sexually. 2) He was constantly bringing up the topic of getting engaged. I kept telling him I wasn’t ready for that, I thought it was still too soon. We were arguing more than we had in the past, and I started feeling the age gap more than ever. Our lives were just so different. I still liked to go out drinking with friends and was figuring out what I wanted to be when I grew up while he was already settled in his career and enjoyed smoking pot , eating twinkies, then falling asleep in front of the T.V. every night. Whenever he’d bring up getting engaged and I’d object to the idea, he would just brush off my protests and tell me I was only nervous because I worry too much. The more hesitant I became, the more pushy he got until one vacation day in Key West, we were off on a tiny island having an amazing 5 star dinner, and it was time for dessert. I remember the moment this way. The waiter brought out some sort of chocolate dessert and I remember thinking, I didn’t order this, that’s odd. The waiter then opened the chocolate dessert, which turns out was a heart shaped box made of chocolate, and I remember thinking, Is that rice? Why would they put white rice inside of chocolate? Turns out it wasn’t rice, it was rock salt and while examining the dessert I somehow didn’t notice the enormous diamond ring sitting in the middle of it. I looked around and wondered why everyone appeared to be staring at me, then noticed Drew to my left down on one knee. Oh my God. My heart started pounding as realization started to creep in, and the next thing I know Drew is saying something like: Parker, will you make me the happiest man on earth and be my wife? It felt difficult to breathe and I couldn’t seem to think clearly. This was such a beautiful moment and I had no idea what the next word out of my mouth was going to be……
To be continued……..
Thursday, July 8, 2010
The Sh*tter Guy
I adopted a motto a while back, and the motto is this: ‘Drink til….” The blank can be filled in with basically anything. Examples for me have been: drink til he’s cute, drink til he’s not annoying, drink til his jokes are funny. I was using this motto and trying to ‘drink til’ the boring party I was at became fun. I was at the party one night with some friends, waiting for them to feel ready to leave since we all drove together, and so far the vodka wasn’t really helping. There was a poker game that a few guys were playing and since I grew up playing poker with my brothers I figured why not join in. I played a few hands and did fairly well except there was one guy who kept beating us all. Turns out he happened to be a professional poker player which I thought was entirely unfair and I told him as much. He seemed amused by me and came up to me after the game. He introduced himself properly and told me his name was James and he apologized for beating me at Poker. He said he’d like to make it up to me and use the money he’d won to take me out to dinner the following evening. James seemed very confident, and he had pretty blue eyes with a decent looking face. He walked with sort of an odd waddle and needed to lose about 20 pounds, but he did seem like a nice guy so I agreed to dinner.
We began seeing each other fairly often after that, and he was a total gentleman, taking me out on great dates. He also wasn’t being too pushy about getting down my pants right away which I appreciated. I wasn’t falling for him by any means, I was more indifferent than anything. I think I only kept going out with him because it was so convenient and nothing was apparently wrong or negative. That is until the night I decided that I’d made him wait long enough for sex. I figured he’d been a total gentleman, and it was time to either sleep with him or break it off. I wasn’t quite ready for the latter yet, plus it had been quite a while since I’d had sex. I also figured since he seemed so into me that he’d definitely be a pleaser in bed as well. Oh how very wrong I was. That night after we got back to his place he poured some wine and we talked a bit before he started kissing me on his couch. Then he asked if I wanted to move this to the bedroom, so I nodded and we went to his bed. I waited for the foreplay to begin but the next thing I knew he was putting on a condom and we were having sex. What went through my mind was, is this guy for real? Has he been with a girl before? You don’t just jump that quickly to the sex and if you do it better be damn good. Just when I was about finished thinking these irritating thoughts, he was about finished having sex. He seemed satisfied and content while I was completely unsatisfied and pissed off. The worst part is as much as I wanted to leave and go home right then, I’d been drinking so I was forced to spend the night. He tried to cuddle with me while I rolled away from him as far as possible and tried to sleep. He had an early flight to catch the next morning, and I awoke with him trying to rub up against my leg like a dog. I ignored these sad attempts at sex and pretended I was still asleep. I even threw in a couple of light snores to make it seem extra believable. When I realized he clearly wasn’t giving up I asked him what time it was and pointed out that he’d better get in the shower before he missed his flight. He agreed, thank God, and walked down the hall to the bathroom. I heard the shower running for a while and figured I’d better grab my clothes and get dressed so he didn’t try anything else when he came out. I reached over the end of the bed and was looking for my shirt when I glanced to my left and noticed he had the bathroom door about halfway open. Then I noticed something else, his feet. Oh….my….God. He wasn’t showering this whole time, he was taking a shit! And with the door halfway open, did this man have any shame?! I threw on my clothes as fast as possible and was about to open the door to leave when he called my name. He was standing behind me with a towel on looking confused. I told him I’d just remembered I was meeting a friend for breakfast and I was late, but to have a great trip. He told me he’d talk to me when he got back, and I thought to myself, actually you won’t, but you’ll find that out soon enough. He tried to kiss me goodbye and I awkwardly turned my head and yelled bye while running out the door. He tried calling a few times when he got back from his trip and eventually gave up after I didn’t respond. That was the end of dating for mere convenience for me, and as for waiting around until the problems presented themselves, I had decided it was time to either shit or get off the pot…pun intended.
We began seeing each other fairly often after that, and he was a total gentleman, taking me out on great dates. He also wasn’t being too pushy about getting down my pants right away which I appreciated. I wasn’t falling for him by any means, I was more indifferent than anything. I think I only kept going out with him because it was so convenient and nothing was apparently wrong or negative. That is until the night I decided that I’d made him wait long enough for sex. I figured he’d been a total gentleman, and it was time to either sleep with him or break it off. I wasn’t quite ready for the latter yet, plus it had been quite a while since I’d had sex. I also figured since he seemed so into me that he’d definitely be a pleaser in bed as well. Oh how very wrong I was. That night after we got back to his place he poured some wine and we talked a bit before he started kissing me on his couch. Then he asked if I wanted to move this to the bedroom, so I nodded and we went to his bed. I waited for the foreplay to begin but the next thing I knew he was putting on a condom and we were having sex. What went through my mind was, is this guy for real? Has he been with a girl before? You don’t just jump that quickly to the sex and if you do it better be damn good. Just when I was about finished thinking these irritating thoughts, he was about finished having sex. He seemed satisfied and content while I was completely unsatisfied and pissed off. The worst part is as much as I wanted to leave and go home right then, I’d been drinking so I was forced to spend the night. He tried to cuddle with me while I rolled away from him as far as possible and tried to sleep. He had an early flight to catch the next morning, and I awoke with him trying to rub up against my leg like a dog. I ignored these sad attempts at sex and pretended I was still asleep. I even threw in a couple of light snores to make it seem extra believable. When I realized he clearly wasn’t giving up I asked him what time it was and pointed out that he’d better get in the shower before he missed his flight. He agreed, thank God, and walked down the hall to the bathroom. I heard the shower running for a while and figured I’d better grab my clothes and get dressed so he didn’t try anything else when he came out. I reached over the end of the bed and was looking for my shirt when I glanced to my left and noticed he had the bathroom door about halfway open. Then I noticed something else, his feet. Oh….my….God. He wasn’t showering this whole time, he was taking a shit! And with the door halfway open, did this man have any shame?! I threw on my clothes as fast as possible and was about to open the door to leave when he called my name. He was standing behind me with a towel on looking confused. I told him I’d just remembered I was meeting a friend for breakfast and I was late, but to have a great trip. He told me he’d talk to me when he got back, and I thought to myself, actually you won’t, but you’ll find that out soon enough. He tried to kiss me goodbye and I awkwardly turned my head and yelled bye while running out the door. He tried calling a few times when he got back from his trip and eventually gave up after I didn’t respond. That was the end of dating for mere convenience for me, and as for waiting around until the problems presented themselves, I had decided it was time to either shit or get off the pot…pun intended.
Thursday, July 1, 2010
The Sketchy Guy
At one of the restaurants I worked at, I became pretty close with one of my fellow waitresses. Her name was Sally but she preferred to be called Sal. Sal was an aspiring stand up comic and we used to spend more of our work shifts laughing hysterically then tending to customers. At one point I joined her sketch comedy troupe. One of her roommates and best friends was also in the troupe. His name was Garlic. At first I thought this was just a silly stage name he used for the sake of comedy, but then I found out it was his actual given name. Apparently his parents were blues singers who were trying to be hip and different or something when they chose that name. My theory is that he was probably an accident and naming him Garlic was their way of getting back at him. Aside from the ridiculous name, Garlic had a lot going for him. He was a very attractive man with an amazing sense of humor, so of course I developed a huge crush on him. I found out through Sal he had a crush on me as well. It felt a little like junior high for the first couple of weeks since we mostly communicated our feelings about each other through Sal. He was a little shy with girls. He finally got the up the nerve to ask me out and we went out for dinner and drinks one night after a show. Then after a couple more dates I ended up spending the night and turns out Garlic wasn’t so shy in bedroom which was fantastic news. Pretty soon I was spending the night at he and Sal’s apartment more than I stayed at my own. Usually in the mornings Sal would make me coffee and we’d have our girl time. It was very convenient and fun. Until the night that doomed my relationship with Garlic.
We had a sketch during one of the shows that was about baby angels, and it required most of the cast to dress up in diapers. After that show, I went home with Garlic and Sal per the usual. When we were alone in his bedroom I heard a strange sound I couldn’t place at first. Kind of a rustling noise. I realized it was coming from Garlic’s pants. I asked if he was still wearing the diaper under his pants thinking that he must have been in a huge hurry to not have taken off the costume. He said that he did still have it on and had a strange look on his face. I got the feeling there was something he wasn’t sharing so with enough pushing he finally agreed to tell me what it was. He apparently had a sexual fetish that involved being diapered. Wow. I had always told him that if he had anything he wanted to try sexually not to be afraid to tell me , that I was really open and game for pretty much anything. Oh how I was regretting those words. I probably should have left then, but instead I tried to pretend like that wasn’t an insanely strange request. I actually began to go through with this diapering act. Baby powder and all, I started diapering Garlic. He seemed to be really enjoying it and getting turned on and then I all of a sudden didn’t feel so well. Or at least that’s what I said to stop the diapering. I went and sat in the restroom for long enough to make it seem like I might be sick. I came out and he looked concerned which made me feel slightly guilty for faking an illness, until I remembered the way his face looked while being diapered. I told him I just wanted to get home and rest in my own bed.
After that night I started to blow him off until I think he got the hint that I was no longer interested. I also eventually quit the comedy troupe which had become fairly awkward. Sal was bummed that it hadn’t worked out between Garlic and I. I never told her the truth of what had happened. I just told her we were really different people. I think the moral is that honesty is the best policy, unless your truth includes things like you get sexually excited while someone is shaking baby powder on your privates and sticking a pamper on your ass. In that case it might be in your best interest to lie.
We had a sketch during one of the shows that was about baby angels, and it required most of the cast to dress up in diapers. After that show, I went home with Garlic and Sal per the usual. When we were alone in his bedroom I heard a strange sound I couldn’t place at first. Kind of a rustling noise. I realized it was coming from Garlic’s pants. I asked if he was still wearing the diaper under his pants thinking that he must have been in a huge hurry to not have taken off the costume. He said that he did still have it on and had a strange look on his face. I got the feeling there was something he wasn’t sharing so with enough pushing he finally agreed to tell me what it was. He apparently had a sexual fetish that involved being diapered. Wow. I had always told him that if he had anything he wanted to try sexually not to be afraid to tell me , that I was really open and game for pretty much anything. Oh how I was regretting those words. I probably should have left then, but instead I tried to pretend like that wasn’t an insanely strange request. I actually began to go through with this diapering act. Baby powder and all, I started diapering Garlic. He seemed to be really enjoying it and getting turned on and then I all of a sudden didn’t feel so well. Or at least that’s what I said to stop the diapering. I went and sat in the restroom for long enough to make it seem like I might be sick. I came out and he looked concerned which made me feel slightly guilty for faking an illness, until I remembered the way his face looked while being diapered. I told him I just wanted to get home and rest in my own bed.
After that night I started to blow him off until I think he got the hint that I was no longer interested. I also eventually quit the comedy troupe which had become fairly awkward. Sal was bummed that it hadn’t worked out between Garlic and I. I never told her the truth of what had happened. I just told her we were really different people. I think the moral is that honesty is the best policy, unless your truth includes things like you get sexually excited while someone is shaking baby powder on your privates and sticking a pamper on your ass. In that case it might be in your best interest to lie.
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