Drunken Charm

I had an interesting Halloween this year. It had all the promise in the world, but somehow managed to fall a little short. We’ll begin this story with Friday.

I left San Francisco and grabbed a flight back to San Diego for the weekend. I usually take Virgin America, but this time I ended up using Southwest. If you’ve ever flown Southwest Airlines, you know that you don’t have assigned seating — depending on the day, this can be either a really good or a really bad thing. This was actually neither.

I boarded the plane and grab a nice window seat in the middle of the cabin. As I’m getting situated, a girl decides to come sit next to me. She was interesting. Kinda your stereotypical San Francisco girl. She was young (maybe 19), very bohemian. She looked like she at a lot of granola bars, if you know what I mean. She wasn’t wearing any makeup, she had a nose ring, Jewish. She had a pretty nice body I must say, and a pretty amazing chest. I noticed she was reading a book with “Polygamy” in the title. This peaked my curiosity.

NOTE: Curiosity is good. Never keep your inquires and observations to yourself, God knows where it will lead to. They say curiosity killed the cat, but no one ever talks about how much ass the cat got before he kicked over.

We talked about her book for a bit, the that lead to all kinds of other topics — mostly only interesting to the parties concerned. This girls wasn’t really my type but I couldn’t help teetering whether I would or would not sleep with her. “She’s too young — but look that chest — She’s kinda dirty — but what nice boobs”, I would think to myself (my love for breasts very well could be a sickness). And it when on like this throughout the whole flight. Even after we exited the plane and made our way through the terminal, I continued to waiver.

Once we made it to the baggage claim, it became apparent I had to make a decision. She had checked a bag, I didn’t and my friend was already waiting for me outside. So I open my mouth and I say:

“Well, it was nice meeting you.”

Oh, you should have seen the look of disappointment on her face. I just couldn’t do it. Even that little part of me that was saying, “Oh, why the hell not?” couldn’t have convinced me otherwise. I can’t say I didn’t give it a second thought on my way back home, but it soon floated out of my head entirely.

When I got home, I dropped my bag down in the living room and immediately started combing the streets of Pacific Beach for the prefect Halloween costume.

Well that’s a pretty decent place to stop. Come back tomorrow for Part 2 of  my Halloween 2009 adventures.

I was grocery shopping with my buddies at the local Trader Joe’s yesterday. It was your typical grocery run (eggs, fruit, coffee, what have you), but I have to say, events did get a little more interesting once we got up to the counter to check out.

As we approached, we noticed a cute blonde manning the register (I’m not a big fan of blondes, but I give credit when credit’s due). As she began emptying the cart I blurted out, “Crap, we forgot to get the dental dams.” Everyone cracked up, including the blonde. Blushing a little as she scanned, she said, “You can’t daze me, I’ve heard it all.” My friends and I begged to differ as one of my buddies brought up a story, I was telling the night before, of the first time a girl ever stuck her finger up my ass during sex.

This impromptu tale of eccentric debauchery stimulated a whole table discussion on accidental anal pleasures, at which point the blonde started to slow down, considerably, the rate of scanning and bagging the groceries as she looked around to see if her manager was anywhere around.

The manager didn’t seem to be anywhere in sight, though as I looked around I noticed a very aggravated old lady wearing a shower cap standing right behind me. She glared at me for a moment, then I turned back to spit out some more of my own unique brand of impassive charm.

The blonde looks at me and asks, “What’s your sign?” I mentally make the little masturbating hand motion in my brain.

NOTE: I know a lot of chicks seem to be really into astrology and whatnot, but I personally can’t ever seem to get on board with that stuff. It’s kinda stupid to me.

Nevertheless, I play along.

Me: Virgo.

Her: Hmm, you don’t act like a Virgo.

Me: How is a Virgo supposed to act? Id like to believe my personality isn’t heavily relying on what day of the year I was born to sustain itself.

Her: You guys (she meant me) should come by everyday. Did you notice how slow I was bagging your stuff?

Me: Well don’t tell that to the lady in the shower cap. She looks like she’s got somewhere to be.

We grabbed our groceries and left on a high note.

The good news is I know where to find her if ever I decide I want to start dating blondes. Next time I might just get her information anyway because we’re always havin’ house parties, and it might be nice to have her in the loop just in case she has any cute Asian or Latina friends.

NOTE: It’s always nice to have a couple of cute chick friends (and gay friends for that matter) in your social circle. It opens up windows of opportunity and keeps outings with your friends from being total sausage fests.

I hope she didn’t get in too much trouble for inappropriate conduct (’cause it was definitely inappropriate), but in the end, I feel good knowing I helped increase morale in the Trader Joe’s workforce, and definitely made the girl’s night.

It’s a beautiful thing.

Steve is definitely one of the most intersting cats I’ve ever taught.  Here’s a story he sent me about one of his recent escapades.

It was one of those gloomy days in San Francisco, I just got off work, decided to take a walk around Height St., a part of town I don’t usually go to. As a coffee addict, I couldn’t help myself to just walk into one antique decorated café. The first thing that caught my eyes was this blonde sitting down with her laptop on the table. Something immediately clicked in my mind that was the person I stink eyed 2 months ago.

I was thought this technique by a good friend of mine, Tie Guy. I was doing the stink eye to almost all the girls within my sight. I just felt the awesome effectiveness of it. The thing that I learned from the stink eye is that it cannot be used to average looking chicks, it can only work to a hot chick 9 and above. It is a very ballsy move to taunt the most attractive women. But you have to do it right; some women will give a “what the hell is wrong with this guy” look. Some would give me a dirty look back, but I didn’t really care how they would react. However, this move will blast through the platonic and friend zone straight to sexual zone.

About 2 months ago, this chick walked up to me, looking for a so and so item. The dynamic of the whole interaction changed immediately in the second I stink eyed her. I know I was at work, there was no way I could carry a conversation with her. I had to get her number that very moments. I did not have enough commitment yet, I have to make this happen in under 5 minutes. Done.

Days go by, eventually weeks and months, she never replied back to my text or voice mail. I thought she must have flaked completely. I was frustrated because I could not figure out what I did wrong.

Even after not having seen or heard from her in months, the game was still on. I walked up to her, pulled a chair, and started talking, pretending like nothing ever happen. I was told by my instructor, “grab her by the horns when you lead, and down play everything when she accuses you.” In following his advice, I scooped in the chair pretending nothing happen. Lay back my aggressive vibe; “What’s up?” I said. “Nothing, just checking my email,” she said. I don’t pay a lot of attention to conversational game, I just let it flow. I substituted what I am lacking, which is hard core flirting, with non-verbals. My impression was that she wasn’t pushing me away. She seemed to enjoy my presence.

I knew what needs to be done at this point, I just need to check the logistics and give a reason to have me at her place.

Me: How far do u live from here?

Her: A few blocks away.

Me: Right on, I need to use the bathroom, I cant believe they don’t have one here.

Her: Alright…

We just walked to her house, I felt nervous, but I knew I was on the right path. The moment I got to her house, I went to the bathroom. I asked her if she had any wine or something, she said, “Yea, I do in my room.” We both knew why I was there in her bed. All I need to do is to catch her eye contact and move in for the kill. She closed the door. I do enjoy the moment they flinch when I undressed them. By the time I was done, I could not believe it was only 7pm, the sun was still out.

Phone game (not to be confused with text game) is really only about 10% or less of solidifying a second encounter. Talking on the phone will become more important to the relationship as it grows and you start to become more and more comfortable with each other, but by that point you’ll naturally be more engaged in one another that hopefully you won’t even think about what to do or say in the midst of the conversation — which is the way it always should be. But in the beginning, you should really only call the girl once you’ve already set up a date via text message (this is also the protocol when meeting women online). At this point the phone call should primarily just be vocal confirmation and setting up logistics.

NOTE: It’s okay to do a little comfort building when you make the initial phone call. It’s a great way for her to get a feel for your personality by filling in some of the blanks that one can’t always pick up on through texting. BUT, if you’re feeling less than confident on the phone I would recommend keeping this to the minimum. You have already done all the hard work by winning her over and setting up the date, you don’t want to blow it at the last minute just because you flub up for a second a make things a little awkward. I can’t tell you how many times I used to get flaked on because of something I did or said right before a date. You know the objective so get in and get out. There’ll be plenty of time to talk later.

Assume She’s Not There

You don’t want to find yourself getting spooked by the answering machine or voicemail and stumble over yourself because you’re suddenly at a loss for words. That’s why I always suggest calling with the expectation of her not answering. SO, before you dial her up, already have in mind what you’re gonna say. Write it down and rehearse it if you need too.  Make sure you know exactly why you’re calling and be able to execute those reasons in the delivery. Get rid of all the “uh’s” and “um’s” that typically comes along with being put on the spot, and make sure your tone is steady and moderately upbeat.

Here’s an example:

Hey, April, It’s Andy! I just wanted to call and let you know what I had in mind for Thursday–HEY, I was curious, are you more into whips or do you like chains better?  Ha ha (I personally like to literally say the words “ha ha”, but that’s just me) anyway, hit me up when you gotta second, otherwise I’ll just holler at you later. Hope all is well.

Equipping yourself with a solid, distinct, concise voicemail message is a surefire way to convey confidence and set you apart.

But what if she actually does answer the phone? Good question. A phone conversation should always be a very smooth, fluid interaction. It needs to always feel natural and not forced. So, when/if ever she does pick up, just go with the flow and enjoy yourself, and use the same topics you prepared prior to the phone call as a guide (does she, in fact, prefer chains over whips?).

When it comes right down to it, there’s really not a whole lot to phone game. However, I do like Troy Dizon’s method of “always be in the middle of something” , which is a great way to let the girl get a little sneak peek into your life. You could be out playin’ basketball with the boys, or at the grocery store trying to decide which spaghetti sauce to buy, as long as you’re making use of your time. A man who is actually out living his life is a whole lot sexier than some guy sitting on the couch, eating Doritos and watching Dr. Phil. Other than that, phone game is pretty much just point and shoot.

Word.

This is a story from a couple of  years ago about one of the many Austin trips.  Austin is one of those few towns where you just know you’re going to have a great time.  Anyway, enjoy…

I have been so lazy lately. Tired, burned out and was even in a semi-committed relationship for a while. But I’m back and slowly gettin’ back into the swing of things.

Saturday night Timmy, Raja and I hit up Austin to hang out with Troy and his PI. As always Raja was running behind so we didn’t even roll into town til almost 11pm.

We start the night off at at bar/lounge called SIX. We meet up with Stripes and his girl and a few minutes later Troy, his boy Ben, and his PI, Ed_Hardy show up. We shoot the for a little bit and then head over to Qua.

We get to Qua and before we even get to the dance floor, a cute blonde comes up behind Ed and starts grinding on him. Everyone joins me in a round of applause as he leads her to the dance floor. Not a lot else was really happenin’ at Qua so after Ed did his thing and got some feedback from us, we headed over to Pangaea.

I’m with the guys for a total of 45 seconds after I walk into the club. As I cross the bar, a sexy petite little things walks past me. I get her attention and slowly come to the realization that I know this person.

ME: “Miranda”?

HB: Huh? (it was loud)

ME: Your name’s “Miranda” right?

HB: Yeah, what’s yours?

ME: Andy

She looks at me and thanks for a second. Then she looks at me again and starts jumping up and down.

HB: OH MY GOD! HOW ARE YOU! I didn’t expect to see you here.

Amanda was a lesbian that I had met a few months back while she was in Dallas visiting. This girl is a whole nother post in itself. And even though this is only the second time we had ever seen each other in person, we definitely had history.

NOTE: I plan on archiving my lesbian-seduction tips sometime in the (distant/not so distant) future. If anyone has questions about this subject let me know and I’ll prioritize it accordingly.

Anyway . . .

MIRANDA – Hey, I have to go talk to the manager about something. Don’t move. I’ll be right back.

ME – I’ll give you 3 minutes.

MIRANDA – I only need 2.

She takes off and I post up at the bar. Not even a minute later, she comes back.

MIRANDA – I’m not losing you. Come on.

She grabs my arm and pulls me away. Normally I wouldn’t have let this happen, but I was so turned on by her assertiveness that at that moment I didn’t mind bein’ lead around like a poodle. As I’m bein’ lead away, I quickly transition from her grabbing my wrist to the finger-lock hand hold. We find the club manager and after expressing her concern about her party’s cocktail (waitress), she turns back to me, grabs my hand again and says the words I long to hear.

“Come on, we have BOTTLE SERVICE.”

We sit down and fix ourselves a couple of drinks. Then we get a little more cozy on the couch and catch up on what had been goin’ on since I deleted her number (like I said, we have history). We talk for a bit and then she leaves for a second to go use the restroom. When she leaves I pour me another drink, sit back and talk to her sexy friend, “Clarissa”, for awhile.

Miranda gets back and we have the cocktail pour us a couple glasses of champagne and talk for a bit more.

By this point I have NO CLUE where the guys are so I decide to excuse myself from the lesbian for a second. I take my glass of champagne and, together, we go in search for my friends. I find Timmy and Troy observing some drunken white girls dancing. I couldn’t quite figure out what was goin’ on so I asked him if he knew where Raja was. Tim then points me in the direction of Raja so I go to find him—the champagne comes with me.

I spot Raja but quickly realize he’s in set, so I pull back before I crash right in the middle of his interaction. However, when he sees me, he calls me over and introduces me to the girl. Me and the champagne wing Raja for a second and tell the girl what a great guy he is. Then we decide to roll off.

Adjacent to Raja’s set was a girl in a zebra print dress sitting on a ledge next to her friend’s VIP spot. I decided to use this opportunity to try out Timmy’s new “animal print” opener, which he came up with one night in Dallas when we realized that 20% of M Street Bar was covered with some kind of dead animal spots.

ME – Hi.

ZEBRA – Hi . . . What are you drinking?

ME – Champagne.

ZEBRA – Ooh, that’s classy.

ME – BURP! Well I’m a classy guy.

ZEBRA – (laughs) Nice.

Tim swears by this – lets see if it’ll work for me.

ME – I have to be honest, I’m really not a fan of zebra print . . .

ZEBRA – (huffs) I think it’s cute.

ME – HOWEVER! You pull it off rather well, I must say.

ZEBRA – Why thank you. I like your tie.

Like a charm. And so it goes . . .

Right beside the lesbian’s bottle service was a sexy girl in a white dress and the brightest smile I had ever seen in Austin while drinking champagne. This girl seriously could have been a spokes model for Crest White Strips. At that same moment the clubs fog machine kicks on and the whole place fills up with mist.

ME – You’re all I can see right now.

CREST – Oh yeah?

ME – Well, really all I can see is your dress and your teeth. You could tell me you don’t have arms and I would have no choice but to believe you at this point. But I must say, I like what I see . . . Which really isn’t much so don’t let it go to your head.

CREST – (laughs)

ME – Hi, I’m Andy.

CREST – Nice to meet you, Andy, I’m . . .

And so on . . .

I then walk around to try and see if I can find some of the other guys, but instead I see two girls standing by themselves, drinking champagne. I raise my glass to them and they raise there’s back to me. I walk over and say hi and we chat for a bit. I compliment one of the girl’s on her dress and ask the other girl why she let her friend show her up. They laugh and I tell them I’m on a mission to find my friends, but that I’d try to catch up with them before I leave. Right as I began to roll off, it occurs to me that it’s doubtful I’ll ever see these girls again, so I slowly pivot back to the one girl and say, “I forgot something.” And then I softly grab her chin, left her neck up and give her one single kiss on her lips—biting her bottom lip ever so gently before I pull off. Then I just walk away.

NOTE: I like makin’ out with girls I’ve just met just as much as the next guy (maybe more). But in my experience, a single kiss, DONE RIGHT, will get you further than half-an-hour of continuous makin’ out. I promise.

Anyway, let’s get back to the lesbian . . .

By the time I get back to “Miranda” she’s totally wasted. She kisses me on the lips and tells me to keep it a secret cause she didn’t want “Clarissa” to see.

Evidently “Miranda” had a thing for her friend “Clarissa”, and at this point, curiosity gets the best of me. I decide to go over and talk to “Clarissa” and since I no longer had my new friend, champagne, with me . . . I had to go at this one alone (even though he was still there in spirit lol). I walk up and sit down next to “Clarissa.”

ME – So you’re gay too? (Real subtle)

CLARISSA – (looking over at “Miranda”) No, but I think she wishes I was. But I think she likes you.

ME – (tell me somethin’ I don’t know) You think so?

CLARISSA – Yeah, I think she’s just confused . . . I like your tie.

ME – (DQ) Yeah? It’s the gayest one I own, but I’m secure enough with my masculinity to wear it anyway.

CLARISSA – Well I think you look sexy

ME – Well I can’t argue with that (I place my hand on her thigh).

Right as we start to move closer, the house lights go up. The cocktail brings Clarissa the bill and she notices that the cocktail had went ahead and but a 20% gratuity on the check. Clarissa didn’t appreciate her doing this and, with all the tact in the world, let the cocktail know that she just screwed herself out of a bigger tip. It was a sight to see.

“Clarissa” gave me her number and told me to call her the next time I’m town. After that, I find the guys and we all walk out and take advantage of what Austin is best for . . . the run and the gun.

In all honesty, I don’t do a whole lot of run and gun. It’s a ONS thing and I’m just not the ONS type. However, It’s not every week that I’m in Austin (even though it seems like I’m there about ever month) and I’ve had just enough to drink that I could do a few blowouts and take advantage of the opportunity. I walk up to a sexy blonde.

ME – You’re the most pretentious lookin’ girl out here . . . but there’s somethin’ about you that makes me think you could be the mother of my children ( I got the “there’s something about you” bit from Troy. It seemed to fit.)

BLONDE – You think I look pretentious?

ME – (sigh) Yeah . . . But I’m from Dallas so I see it all the time.

BLONDE – Haha, I’m from Dallas too.

ME – See, what did I tell you? Though, you actually seem pretty down to earth.

BLONDE – (smiles) Well not all Dallas girls are stuck up.

Yadayadayad . . . number close (I have plans to get together with her tomorrow actually).

I see “Miranda” outside and she informs me that she had lost her credit card and her cell phone . . . at least that’s what I think she said. She was really wasted. Then she said she’d hit me up on MySpace tomorrow and then walked off to talk to the valet. Then I see “Clarissa” hangin’ out by the wall. I walk up to her and tell her that she should probably not let “Miranda” drive home. She agrees and then I change the subject.

About that time some dude walks up and says “He bro, that’s my wife you’re talkin’ to.” I just look at him like he’s a retard and shew him away. At that moment Timmy comes out of nowhere and goes after this guy. I thought this was hilarious because Tim never does that. Timmy knows I can handle myself, but I found out later on that earlier in the club the same guy had came up to him while he was in set and tried to AMOG him too.

NOTE: The biggest mistake you could ever make is to try and cock block Tim while he’s in set. A truck load of naked blondes couldn’t keep him from makin’ you look like a complete and total jackass.

Anyway, so we finish up and, as always, end the night at WHATABURGER. Time gets away from us and before we know it, its 8am. There’s a little discussion as to what we should do, and we decide just to go back to the motel, check out, Drive back to Dallas, and worry about sleep once we got home. But before we leave, we swing by Troy’s hotel to pick up a couple of things.

We leave the hotel, and Timmy and I split the trip driving back home while Raja passes out in the back. I get dropped off at my apartment and then I konk out for a good 6 hours .

It’s a beautiful thing.

One morning I woke up to find a Big-Ass Bruise, the size of a softball, on the back of my thigh. Seriously, this thing was HUGE! I mean, everybody discovers unexplained bruises on their persons from time to time, but unless someone was hammering at my leg for an hour with a crowbar while I was asleep . . . I don’t see how I wouldn’t have remembered this one.

All day long, my mind was consumed with this thing. My mind just kept goin’ back to this thing.  “Did I fall?” “Was I drunk?” “Where the hell did this thing come from!?!” Nevertheless, I carry about my day, which eventually ended with me “getting lucky.” It wasn’t until then that I FINALLY realized how I got this huge fucking bruised on my thigh. As we were just starting to get into it, I start to feel this pain. Under further examination I noticed that it was coming from my thigh. THEN it all starts to come together. It was a battle wound from having sex.

The positioning of our anatomy was in such an angle that ball of this girl’s foot was constantly banging in and around the same area of my big-ass bruise. The harder we would go at it, the more pain my leg would be in. I can’t say for sure if it was the same girl that actually gave me the bruise in the first place, because I don’t remember getting it in the first place, but a similar situation was definitely the cause of it. I guess I was just having too good a time to notice. I don’t think I’m going to start wearing hockey pads during sex any time soon, however this instance definitely gives the phrase “use protection” a whole new meaning in my opinion.

It’s a beautiful thing.

Way back when I first started hanging with Timmy, and still a little green, I (like a lot of guys) had a little trouble sexually escalating. I didn’t like touching people and I sure as hell didn’t like being touched, so I decided to make it my personal mission to try and overcome this.

It was a Monday night, so Timmy and I hit up one of the only places (at the time) to hit on Mondays, Martini Ranch. As we walk in I notice that the place is already packed -  and with lots of sexy latinas (which I love). Tim and I end up befriending a dude who’s birthday it was, and in return introduced us to every sexy single Latina he brought with him.

Within 15 minutes we owned the place, and it was easily starting to become one of the best nights of my life. At one point I start to walk up the ramp that leads to the patio. Next to the window outside was this sexy brunette looking in. Right before I walk past her, I stop and face her from the other side of the glass and start grooming myself as if the window was a mirror. As soon as Tim and I walk outside, I strike up a conversation with her. She then precedes to ask us why we were drinking water. Truth be told, I didn’t really drink at the time, but I had rode my motorcycle to the bar and drinking and driving that thing is just a big NO-NO. So, after telling her this she says, “I want to see your bike!” I immediately grab her arm and lead her out to the parking lot.

When we get to my bike, she looks at it for a bout two seconds and then says, “Hey, A doll house!” evidently I had parked in front of a daycare center that had a small playground next to it. In front of my bike, just beyond the little picket fence, was, in fact, a little playhouse for the kids. It was pink with a little door and window. It had white trim and even a fake chimney at the top. I then turn back and look at her.

ME: Wanna go inside?

HER: Uhh . . .

Before she even had a chance to speak, I grab her arm and lead her toward the little picket fence. We then hop over the fence and crawl inside.

Inside the play house we both just sit there for a moment. You can tell from the look in her eyes that she’s waiting for me to do something, so I decide to man-up and go for it. We immediately start making out. The next thing I know, her shirt and her bra is off. She suggests we play a little game of truth or dare. I go first.

ME: Truth or dare?

HER: Um . . . Truth.

ME: What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done?

HER: Um . . . Sneak into I kid’s playhouse with a guy I just met five minutes ago.

We laughed and then it was her turn.

HER: Truth or dare?

ME: Dare.

HER: I dare you to take off your pants and run around the outside of this dollhouse.

ME: (Laugh) If you say so.

I unlace my shoes and remove my pants. The next thing I know, I find myself running around this playground in nothing but my underwear.

I climb back inside the dollhouse. The girl is sitting on the ground laughing her ass off. I pull her up to her feet and begin kissing her again, then I place her hand inside my boxer briefs. Before too long she is giving me what comedian Ron White refers to as a “mouth hug.”

ME: You can’t tell anybody else about this place . . . This is our place.

She stops and says:

HER: Well, if it’s our place, then we should christen it somehow?

ME: You mean like break a champagne bottle over the side of it?

HER: No, not exactly . . .

Well it didn’t take a genius to figure out what she meant, but sadly that wasn’t going to be in the cards–I didn’t have any condoms on me.

NOTE: Things happen when you least expect them. The best advice is just to always be prepared. Take condoms with you wherever you go (even if it’s just to the supermarket), and have you place clean and your bed made, even if you don’t plan on having company over. It’s better to be safe than sorry.

So, we just fool around a little bit longer and then head back to the bar. As soon as we stepped back inside we both went our separate ways. I found Timmy and told him everything and ended up having a couple more makeouts before the night was over, but It was what happened in the dollhouse that topped it all off for me. I never actually got the girl’s name, and I never saw her again after that, but I’m pretty sure it was a night that we both won’t soon forget.

It’s a beautiful thing.

Last night, me and a couple of friends went down to the Marina for $1 tacos and $2 Coronas. The place is always packed with the happy hour crowd, so we decided to get there early to insure we get a table. We order a big plate of tacos and some beers and immediately dig in. I was also supposed to be meeting up with this Russian girl I had met a few weeks ago at a 4th of July party– She strolled in about half an hour later. She sat down and we all chatted for a bit, then my friends went off to mingle, leaving the Russian and me alone. It was very apparent that she was into me, and I have to say, she wasn’t so bad herself.

A few minutes later, a couple of really cute girls, a Mexican and a Blonde, came up and asked if they could join us at our table . . . That was fine. I go back to the Russian, but eventually we ended up getting to know the other girls a little more. Some how we started talking about marriage, and who doesn’t like talkin’ about marriage? Me, that’s who. The Russian told us she had married some guy for citizenship and that was actually kinda interesting. With that, brought up my views on the subject. From this opened up a whole can of worms with one the Mexican, and stemmed a more personal conversation.

At some point my friends come back and start chatting with The Russian and the Blonde, while I continue my discussion with the Mexican. As the conversation intensifies, I begin paying less and less attention to the Russian, and she eventually gets jealous/bored/tired and decides to go home. I felt kinda bad about ignoring her, and even thou I enjoyed talking to the sexy Mexian girl, I ultimately really wasn’t interested. The Russian left wanting me even more, though it seems it was a wasted opportunity. After she left I go to the restroom and let my friends go after the Blonde and the Mexican, and my good buddy Cicero stopped by for a bit as well.

Beer, tacos and pretty ladies. It was pretty chill, fun night all in all. We’re supposed to be hangin’ out with the The Blonde and the Mexican again this weekend, and I’ll make sure to see the Russian when she gets back from Miami.

It’s a beautiful thing.

This is from way back in the day when I was just beginning to start to figure things out. For me its really funny to look at this and see how much I’ve changed since. I always got a kick out of this one. Maybe you will too.

Long story short (or as short as my wordy can get it) This chick finds me on MySpace. A half-hawiian, half-asian runway model named Whoa (That’s her actual, real effin’ name). She was an easy 9 in the looks department. Anyway, so we start conversing back and forth via MySpace, and then after a day or so of that we exchange numbers. I give her a call and we agree to hang out. Workin’ around her’s and my schedule we decide she’ll come over sunday night and hangout. She could only come after midnight for some reason (strange chick).

I call her around 11:30 sunday night to give her directions to my place, but when I call she tells me she just got home and doesn’t really feel like comin’ over. I said “whatever” and got off the phone. A few minutes later I text her the following:

“I have to say that’s pretty weak, Whoa. I even cleaned my toilet for you. I like you and everthing, but I just don’t put up with flakiness. Take care.”

I quickly get a call from her. She said that she had to park her car about 2 blocks from her place and didn’t feel safe walkin’ to it, but if I wanted to come pick her up, then she’d be down for hangin’ out. So I said okay. My roommate had blocked my motorcycle in the driveway so I just decided to take his car (a 96 Toyota Camry).

So I drive about 10 miles north to her place. I pull up in the most unimpressive car you’ll ever see. I give her a call and she comes down. She’s wearin’ a sexy black top, with super tight jeans and a black leather jacket. Oh, and for some reason she was wearing sunglasses (God knows I called her out on it, and she gave some bullshit answer . . . whatever, she’s hott). So off we go, back to my place . . . or that was the plan at least. About 4 miles down the road the car starts smokin’ and burnin’ oil like crazy and we very quickly find ourselves stranded on the side of the interstate with nothin’ but a loss for words.

Ya know, shit like this happens. Whatcha gonna do but just roll and deal with the situation? This chick is cool about it for a total of about 40 seconds. She’s like, “Your better call somebody now.” So, I ended up calling a cab to come pick her up. It took a good 45 minutes for the cabby to actually find us, which very well could have been the longest 45 minutes of her and my life. Pure silence. I did my best to try and lighten the situation, but she was NOT HAVIN’ IT. All I got from here were little bitchy comments here and there.

Finally the cab shows up. I give here some cash for the cab ride and right as I go in for a goodnight kiss I get a car door slammed in my face (I’m obviously joking, I’m not that clueless). So, she goes home and I stay stranded on the side of the road till around 3AM when I finally got hold of a tow truck to take me and my roommate’s car back home.

By the time I got back, she had already deleted and blocked me from her MySpace account. Which saved me the fuckin’ trouble right? But let’s all give Whoa a round of applause. We need more women like her if we’re gonna have any chance of Keepin’ Dallas Pretentious.

It’s a beautiful thing.