Tag Archives: hook up

Protected: Small town dating

23 Feb

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It’s amazing the difference a day makes

14 Feb

Has it only been a day since that last blog post?  24 hours since I was melting into a puddle on the floor?  Since some random Carly Rae Jepsen song came on the radio and it made me think of him and I immediately said, “fuck” out loud because it meant that I kind of liked him? So much has happened in 24 hours.  All of it has happened in 24 hours.  Okay, maybe not all of it, but a whole lot of it.

No, I haven’t seen #4 again – no naked bodies.  Calm down.

First of all, let me tell you that this guy has some serious game.  Sure, I’ve not played for many years, but I’d think my skills were sharp enough to know how to respond.  He’s left me speechless a few times.  Excellent flirt.  I’m down.  Texts flying back and forth and they were good.

One minute we were flirting on text and then next thing there are some REAL direct questions about marriage, and kids.  Like, immediately.  I’m not used to the “let’s make sure we’re on the same page” conversation until way later in the game.  This was under the guise of “I don’t like the idea of sabotaging another date, but I really don’t like the idea of wasting your time if your’e looking for something more serious” excuse. He doesn’t want any more kids.  He isn’t looking to get married.  Okay, fine by me, no worries, whatever.  I told him I wasn’t planning on picking out a wedding dress and sending baby announcements.

Kids, then things got deep real quick (and I don’t mean that in a sexy way).

Like REAL quick.

Next thing I know we’re talking about life long dreams and what we’re looking for in life and love and didn’t we just make out on the front porch 15 minutes ago and now we’re having an existential conversation?  Then we went down this track where he had this total epiphany of what he really wanted, which I coached him to (because I’m a therapist in my own mind), and it’s like, how the fuck did we get here?

What happened to yesterday when I was swooning and wondering where this would go, to essentially talking him into “let’s just do a friends with benefits” kind of thing?

#4 is in no way, shape, or form ready for a relationship.  I don’t know what happened to him in the past, but there is all sorts of work he’s going to have to do on himself before he gets there.  The kind of work that even I, as a faux therapist, can’t help him with.  So basically I validated there’s nothing wrong with what he’s looking for as long as he’s up front about it. Though I think he has this strange idea that even if what he’s looking for is FWB that it would be a monogamous version of FWB.  Um, no.  That’s not how it works.

So here’s what I’m thinking: we’re not gonna date, we’re gonna just do whatever, and I’m going to go ahead and date other people. We’re not sleeping over at one another’s houses.  We’re not going to meet one another’s friends or families.

Meanwhile, the Tutor (previously know as date #3), is up for tonight’s date.

Things are getting really interesting…

Le Swoon

13 Feb

You guys!! YOU GUYS!!  That gif was totally me at the end of my date last night.  Holy Lord almighty.  Swoon.  SWOON, you guys!!  Are you swooning?  I’m still swooning.  I want to spend the entire day just melting and turning into a giant puddle on the floor.  Then I’ll pick myself back up and melt all over the place again.

God bless, #4.

We met up at a restaurant near my house.  I was early, as per usual, and was the only customer in the place.  He walked in and I thought to myself, “hot fucking damn, he is fit as fuck.”  He knows how to fill out a polo shirt.  Looked way hotter than in his pictures.  Like, I felt my ovaries beating hot.  I had to restrain myself from asking him to father my children.  He sat down and immediately faced the bar and I thought, “Fuck, he’s totes not into me.”  Whatever, we’ll have a few drinks and then I’ll go home and line up the next date.

We drank, we ate, we talked politics, family, dating, traveling, pizza, drinks.  I don’t know.  We talked, and he was interesting, and smart, and funny.  And I poked him in the arm and it was rock hard and then I thought, “stop touching him!  He doesn’t like you,” because he was facing the bar.  AND THEN he nudged my leg and I thought, “I’m going to touch his body.”  And then we talked some more, and then I poked his arm again and my ovaries started beating again.  And then he lodged his leg next to mine and my immediate impulse was to pull it away and I thought, “do not move your fucking leg.  You will leave it there touching his.”

But then he asked for the check.


It was a little after 7:30, we’d been there for 2 hours – I could have sat there for 2 more days.  Okay, fine.  Read all the signs wrong, clearly if he wanted to leave then that meant that he was over it.  He was naturally charming, and was being polite in hanging out, and he was ready to go.  And I was bummed.  Then he said, “can I walk you home?” Obviously, I said yes.

So here’s this handsome, younger gentleman walking me home and I had that inner dialogue with my slutty self.

  • Slutty Self (SS): You should just sleep with him.
  • Rationale Self (RS): Do not do that.
  • SS: Don’t you want to see him naked? Imagine what he looks like under that shirt?
  • RS: You playing the long game here, or do you want him to touch you all over and then never hear from him again?
  • SS: Is that a bad thing?  Because look at him?  Invite him in the house.
  • RS: Do not invite him in the house.
  • SS: Don’t you want to touch his peen?
  • RS: If you wait, maybe you can touch it more than once…

There we were on my porch and he was looking at the house, and I know that he wanted to come in – but I was not going to invite him in.  Instead, he kissed me on the porch.  I wanted to maul him.  To climb him like a god damn mountain.  I restrained myself.  So he kissed me again, and my inner slut yelled to me, “you’re five feet from the couch, you could be on top of him in less than 2 minutes.”  I thanked him for a good time, bid him adieu, and went into my house where I melted onto the couch.

Of course I needed to immediately start thinking, “WHAT IS GOING TO HAPPEN NOW?? IS HE GOING TO CALL ME?? WHAT IF I NEVER SEE HIM AGAIN??”

Five minutes later he sent me a message in the dating app (because I hadn’t given him my number) thanking me for the date and saying even if I wasn’t sure about a 2nd date, that the kiss is something important to check out.  I immediately wrote back and told him I had a great time and gave him my number.  And in the first few official text messages he wrote, “You were as good a kisser as I imagined.” And that’s when I died. I am dead.

I mean, like what?  WHAT JUST HAPPENED??

Of course my head told me to take a deep breath and calm down, my throbbing ovaries were making plans for where we were going to do it, and my heart is making plans of its own.  Here’s the thing: this (if there is a this) will be a casual thing.  It will be nothing more than that.  It will burn hot, and it will burn fast.  We all know that the hotter the flame the faster it burns, and I need a slow burn. As much as I may want it to be more than casual, it will not be. So I’m going to keep going out there, and meeting other guys.  Date #3 and I are going out again tomorrow.  I will not get my hopes up (haha, who am I kidding?).  I will let this play out.

And I’ll keep checking my phone to see when he’s going to respond to the text that I sent him this morning.  It’s been 2 hours and he hasn’t responded.  I’m never going to hear from him again.

I ordered a few new bras.  You know, just in case.

Why hasn’t he responded to my text?? Oh wait.  He just did.

The Stupid Things Girls Do

11 Jan

Folgers and I had an interesting conversation today about the stupid things girls do.  Why do we, as chicks, do slutty things with dudes who we don’t really like, but make the guys we really like wait before we put out?  Really, why do we do that?  This all came up when we were talking about the terrible date I went on with Bob the Builder over the summer.  For the life of him, he couldn’t understand why I would make out with a guy I had zero intention of seeing again.  The response of “it seemed like a good idea at the time,” didn’t quite do the trick.  He was even more confused when I announced I typically don’t kiss someone on the first date.

  • Folgers: Wait a second, so you kissed this douche bag, but you don’t usually kiss someone on the first date.
  • Me: Yes, that’s right.
  • Folgers: So why would you kiss him?
  • Me: I don’t know.  I guess we were both there and I had needs or something.
  • Folgers: But you didn’t plan on seeing him again?
  • Me: Yes.
  • Folgers: What on earth would you have done if you liked him??
  • Me: Nothing.
  • Folgers:  Wait.  So if you had liked him you wouldn’t have done anything with him but since you didn’t like him you made out with him all over Philadelphia?
  • Me: That’s about right.
  • Folgers: You realize that makes zero sense, right?
  • Me: It makes sense to me.
  • Folgers: I think you’re retarded.

You know what?  He has a point.  Why do we do that?  As I think back to what I was thinking when I kissed Bob the Builder, I really have no idea why I would kiss him when I wasn’t sure whether or not there would be a second date.  Isn’t that sending mixed singles?  But I guess I didn’t really care.

Meanwhile, if I had really liked him, I never would have let him kiss me.  Why?  Because I wouldn’t want him to think I was that kind of a girl.  Even though, clearly, I totally am.  It just doesn’t make sense.  The only thing I can come up with is as women we give ourselves in different way.  God knows.  I’m thinking this one might keep me up at night.


Protected: The Conference Room

21 Sep

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Even Aaron Spelling Would Be Proud of my 90210

3 Sep

Thursday was a magical day.  It was 90210, and I was ready to get my Shannon Doherty on – all except the whole “getting fired from work” part.

This day did not, at all, turn out how I thought it would.  I was wicked super psyched because it was my first official Happy Hour with Office Adonis – our first time out of the office outside of work.  I was going to stare at his guns and drool all over him.  Boom Boom picked out a good outfit for me and we left for work.

Like he did every other day, he stopped by my cubicle.

  • Office Adonis: Would it be wrong of me to tell you how hot you look today?
  • Me: Um, no!
  • Office Adonis: You look hot today.
  • Me: Aw, shucks!
  • Office Adonis: I can’t remember why I came over here, I’m distracted me now.

What a freaking flirt!

Blah blah fast forward.

We made it to the bar and another girlfriend (Irish) of ours came along as did Boom Boom and our friend Man Dimples (who has, shockingly, a mean set of dimples).  The bar we started at sucked so we decided to go somewhere else.  On the way out I noticed how busty Irish was and I made a comment to Boom Boom that I was going to have to tell her her rack was hot.  “Look who’s talking!” Office Adonis blurted out.  You realize, of course, this means he’s stared at my boobs, right?

When we got to the bar we all started talking about boobs and me made another comment about my rack.  Shock on my part, again.  Boom Boom told him that if he wanted to grab my boobs she would look away, and he pretended like he was going to.  We sat there for awhile and then decided to move to a table outside.  Man Dimples, Irish, and Boom Boom were in front of us.  As we walked out the doors Office Adonis said he was going to grab one of my breasts and asked if I had a preference, I totally thought he was kidding so I told him to take his pick.  He went for the left one.  He touched my freaking boob.  With his hand.  And it was in real life, not in my dreams.

Blah blah fast forward.

We were outside and somehow started talking about hands and I mentioned how much I liked callouses on a man’s hands.  Well, guess who has both hands covered with callouses?? Not from wanking it.  He lifts.  In fact, he an bench press 320, so you can imagine how fucking hot his body is.  He was kind enough to rub my arm with both hands, and I just about passed out from sheer delight.  Ugh, he’s hot.

Then the conversation turned to making out in the car and I have no idea how that happened, but he said he was going to take me to do it and ha ha, everyone thought it was funny and we all had a good laugh.  Irish and Boom Boom left to go to the bathroom and we decided to play a joke on them where we would run off, spy on them, and then tell them we were making out in his car.  We hid on the deck, but they would be able to see them, so I told him that we could walk around the restaurant and stand near the deck and spy through the gaps in the bars of the deck.

We snuck outside and as we were walking towards the side of the deck, he said:

  • Office Adonis: And I thought you were taking me out here to make out with me.
  • Me: Ha ha, I thought the same.  Come on, we can see them from right over here.
  • Office Adonis: My car is over there.
  • Me: You’re so funny.  It’s in the middle of the lot.  Besides, there’s a dark passage way under the bar. (I know this because we had just passed it.)
  • Office Adonis: Let’s go.
  • Me: Yeah, okay.  (Meanwhile, I kept walking away from it.)
  • Office Adonis: Well I’m going.
  • Me: [stunned because he had turned around and was literally walking down the path towards the passageway] Yeah, okay.

I swear on every single thing that is precious to me that I totally thought I was going to get there and it was going to be his idea of a little joke.  Then we’re suddenly both moving towards each other and BAM we’re kissing!  You could have shot me dead right there.  Right the fuck there.  We were making out.  With each other.  Together.  And not in my head.

And he’s a great kisser.

And he has a hot body.

And he was totally into it.

And he said, “The things I could do to you.”

And I’m pretty sure that I died a little bit on the inside.

Then suddenly reality started setting in.  We were underneath a fucking bar, on a Wednesday night, with our friends upstairs.

He tried to stick his left hand up my dress but I blocked him.  He apologized and told me he couldn’t resist and I could seriously die all over again.

I have no idea how long we were there.  It could have been 30 seconds, or I could actually be 66 as I write this.  I don’t know.  We went back inside, he went back to the table, and I went to the bathroom to make sure that it didn’t look like I had stuck my mouth inside a fucking vacuum hose.  It did. Thankfully, it was dark outside so you couldn’t really see anything.  I sat down, and no one had a clue.  We went back to all talking about whatever it was that we were talking about and I spent the rest of the time freaking out on the inside.

After he left, Man Dimples and Boom Boom spent 20 minutes telling me that I could totally have Office Adonis if I wanted to.  That he liked me.  That he was into it.  I told them they didn’t know what they were talking about.  Boom Boom just said, “You are totally going to make out with him.  It’s going to happen.”  I told her she was crazy and no, it would never happen.  Man Dimples got up to go the bathroom and suddenly I was 16 and I was whispering in the hallway to my BFF that I had just made out with the Football Captain.  We squealed and jumped around and I gave her every single detail and told her not to say anything.

On our way home, everything started to settle.  I’m looking for more than short term.  I don’t want a fling with him.  We work together, he sits 3 aisles from me, he has a girlfriend, he’s 9 years younger than I am.  This can’t happen.  No matter how I look at this, it ends badly for me.

And then I woke up this morning and my head is in the clouds and I want to bang it against the wall at the same time.  I was so nervous to go to work, partly because I didn’t know how we would act, partly because I feel guilty, partly because I like him, and partly because I’m part idiot (on my dad’s side).  I panicked for nothing.  Everything was fine.  Like any other day, I had an IM from him within an hour of walking through the door.

This one, however, was different.  He alluded to last night, but kind of casually.  He said that I had made him feel special yesterday (we were talking about cheesy shit).  I called him a flatterer and he told me that maybe he should slow the flattery down, and I told him not to and he asked me if I wanted more.  Like an idiot I said yes.  And as I was writing to him I was thinking, “what the hell am I fucking doing?”  This will end badly.  What future do we have?

He came to see me this morning and we didn’t talk about it other than saying that happy hour was a good time.  He asked me if I had been drunk, I told him I hadn’t been.  As he was leaving he said something about how I wanted to take advantage of him, and I told him that he was a willing participant.  Then I said, “Wait a minute, wasn’t it the other way around?” He said that he had been very willing.

That was it.

I’m back home next week.  No Office Adonis.  Maybe that will give me enough time to bust my own skull open on my bathtub.

No 27 year old boys who sit 3 aisles over and have wicked hot bodies and girlfriends.

Fuck.  I am so screwed.

Fancy Meeting You Here

3 Jun

Those of you that have checked the peen counter in the last several months know that I’m experiencing a very LONG and tragic dry spell.  One that would reduce just about anyone to tears.  Frankly, it’s a sad sad state of affairs and Vageena Davis is so very lonely.  So very sad and so very, very lonely.

This wretched dry spell reminds me of another one that I had ages and ages ago when I was just a young thing.  One that happened to be broken by a young man that I met on December 31st of 1996.  It’s incredible how a one night stand (or ONS as some of us call them) can change your life.  And how sometimes they come back to haunt you.

This just happened to be one of those cases…

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