Yeah okay bash this if you like, but you can see already it's long so don't bash it if it's too long for you or even get into it if you aren't going to finish it please. Thank you....
I went out to some bar this evening which was a sort of grunge tiki joint where they had a few bands on. The second I pay the $5 and walk in I head to the nearby edge of the bar to get my usual free diet coke and there's this Mexicana MILF standing there who says something nice about my shirt and who is being very outgoing. I tell ya, when you order diet coke and eschew drinking alcohol in a bar of all places, you make yourself an intriguing man of mystery. Try it. So anyhow we get to talking about whatever in that way that people sometimes talk who are just above the averega age of those surrounding them, as we were. So we shoot the breeze and are having what seems to be a good enough time, she's telling me about her life, I'm telling her next to nothing. Soon she has developed the habit of standing so close that her tits are frequently touching my arm as I hold my drink.
Going against my usual policy of NEVER buying a girl a drink at a bar (not going to get laid anyhjow so why bother?) I bought her one and agreed to one myself. Not a big drinker but one now and then ain't gonna kill me. Besides, some kind fo game was afoot and I didn't want to blow it by loosing my edge. So she tells me she is 39, has an 11 year old kid, was in the pen for shooting some guy for four months when she was 18 (didn't kill him) and doesn't go out much but she used to. This was not her first drink but as she works her way through it, those nice tits are frequently and rather unmistakably being mashed against my arm on a less than accidental basis. So much so that I can feel them now and I'm back at home. By myself, anyhow. She says something about having a "lover" who has a slight weight problem and who is married.
Now allow me to pause here for a moment. The only part of my life that does not work well for me is that part that involves women, romance and sex of any kind on any level. I have a decent amount of money, I am smart, I am acceptably good looking, I read books, mommy taught me how to dress. But that one thing still doesn't work for me. A year or two ago, after not getting laid for a looong time, never being able to rope in a date and seemingly never getting treated by females as though they were even remotely interested in me, I made an agreement with myself that I was going to take that part of my life, put it in a box somewhere in my head and forget it ever existed. I just gave in, adopted a celibate lifestyle and came to accept that the other way was not going to work for me ever and it hadn't really until now, so much so that it was lunacy to ever expect that former way to ever go MY way. On top of that, I already suffer from depression, and every time I'd ask a girl out and get told no (which was always), it threw me for a bigger, harder-hititng loop every time that eventually took me days to pull out of. So I stopped that. I do not ask women out anymore, do not get or give phone numbers (they never got in touch or returned my calls anyhow) and got the fuck on with my life as though love and sex didn't exist at all. It works pretty well and I'm still doing that. I have no plans to give that up either. If I have to get laid one fo these days, I'll go to Mexico and do what I need to do. I had in effect vowed to never put myself out there again for rejection no matter what.
So it should come as no surpise to you, dear readers, that I did absolutely nothing to encourage this girl's flirting. I was nice, I smiled and was energetic about the encounter but I did nothing to her that would not have passed the newspaper test. When she mashed her tits into my arm constantly and rubbed her ass against mine after the band started playing, I said nothing about it yet made no effort to step away. I did not put my hands on her at any time. Had I done that, I would have been making an advance, and she could have been like "Oh that's not what I meant!" and walk off or slap me or something. Being the smart guy that I am, I also knew this was working to my advantage somehow that I was in effect snubbing her. I did keep buying her the occasional beer. To me it was a bargain: she was doing something for me which was virtually forcing me to feel her up, I was doing something for her, which was buying beer. Sounds like a good trade to me. The more I bought the more flirtatioius she got. Now she did say she had a "lover", so I said to her, probably lying "See, I was going to give you my number I think, but now I'm not because I know you don't need me for anything. You have this other guy in your life and that's cool, but if you got him, you don't need me at all.". She lookeed kind of shocked I said that, but so what? It was true. I didn't give a fuck, no what I was going to get laid here anyhow. This was the first time in months my existance as a man was even so much as acknowledged by a woman, so no way I was going to actually get some. How did I know that? Because I virtually never get any.
So she has this guy friend of hers walk up to her and she's flirting with him right in front of me, half jokingly doing some seductive dance moves. Didn't bother me. I stood there like the only thing that was going to upset my universe was if my cup of diet coke ran out. Remember, I had wisely not stuck my neck out into anything here. She then says something about wanting another beer, looking at me, and orders one. She had been ordering, I paying thus far. So the beers come and the bartender looks at me and I look at her like "What you looking at me for?" Then the girl looks at me and I pointed to the guy she was flirting with and said "What about him? I got my diet coke here.". The message was loud and clear: flirt with someone else all you want, but that beer spigot turns off the minute you do that. Let him pay for your fucking beer. And he did.
She kind of wandered off to hang with her friends closer to the stage when (the timing could nto have been better) I ran into a somewhat cute old acquaintance of mine who was more than willing to hug me and hang on me. Good to see her again, too. So I went to take a piss and then stood near where the previous girl was at, talked to her foir a second or two and then turned towards the band (my back to her) to rock out some. So she's then rubbing her ass against mine and occasionaly pinching my ass and rubbing it. I'm kind of getting into that kind of fun, so to reciprocate I occasionally reach back and scratch her back right in the middle. Every time we talked for a few seconds those tits weree mashed against my arm and hand. This was more action than I had seen in two years at least. Her hand even lightly brushed the front of my shorts in the most deft way you could have imagined. But I still was passing the newspaper test.
Eventually ther band finished up and I kind of went towards the door wher she hugged me. I hugged her back but only after she initiated the embrace. I had no intention of giving her my number, I was going to say bye and go. A woman who wants to fuck you does not stand there and tell you she has someone else she is currently doing. Then again, women who want to fuck.....don't talk to me. So she asked what it was I do anyhow and I told her and she's like "Oh can I have a card?" so I gave her one. I do not consider this me giving me her my number, and for two reasons: for one, the connotation is business, and two, my name isn't on it. If she remembers it that's fine, but she'll have to. Oh, and she asked. If I took all the pieces of paper that I wrote or received numbers on that I got or gave women and which never panned out, I'd have a fucking forest by now. So then I walked off.
I did play everything properly, I stand by that. I passed the news paper test (meaning my actions could be described on the front page of the morning paper the next day and I would have nothing to be embarassed about. I at no time allowed myself to be fooled into thinking I was going to get some. Had she said "Let's get out of here and go someplace private" or "let's fuck" I would have, but I invested nothing in that concept, so I had nothing to be dissapointed about. Whatever I did, I for once didn't FUCK UP. True I did so by doing absolutely nothing but smile, talk and be harmlessly charming, but I didn't fuck up. And whatever I did, it got me as far as it did anyhow. She was all over me most of the night so I must have done something right.
I get by in life by not talking to myself about or otherwise putting myself in positons where I have to think about how miserable my sex/romantic life is. If I had to, I'd be pretty fucking depressed. I pretend it doesn't exist. I do not hang out with couples, I do not ask where people met, I do not listen to relationship problems or give advice. I do not hang out at public events where couples do such as street fairs or what have you. But by the time I got to my car I at least felt kind of sad that I have to do it this way, that to protect myself from a series of ongoing rejections, I have to not ever demonstrate proactively that I am in admiration of a girl. Hell, that's usually what turns them off to me to begin with. Then I somehow forgot about it, acknowledged that $20 in beer bought me some tits all over my arm for an hour or two and went home.
I went out to some bar this evening which was a sort of grunge tiki joint where they had a few bands on. The second I pay the $5 and walk in I head to the nearby edge of the bar to get my usual free diet coke and there's this Mexicana MILF standing there who says something nice about my shirt and who is being very outgoing. I tell ya, when you order diet coke and eschew drinking alcohol in a bar of all places, you make yourself an intriguing man of mystery. Try it. So anyhow we get to talking about whatever in that way that people sometimes talk who are just above the averega age of those surrounding them, as we were. So we shoot the breeze and are having what seems to be a good enough time, she's telling me about her life, I'm telling her next to nothing. Soon she has developed the habit of standing so close that her tits are frequently touching my arm as I hold my drink.
Going against my usual policy of NEVER buying a girl a drink at a bar (not going to get laid anyhjow so why bother?) I bought her one and agreed to one myself. Not a big drinker but one now and then ain't gonna kill me. Besides, some kind fo game was afoot and I didn't want to blow it by loosing my edge. So she tells me she is 39, has an 11 year old kid, was in the pen for shooting some guy for four months when she was 18 (didn't kill him) and doesn't go out much but she used to. This was not her first drink but as she works her way through it, those nice tits are frequently and rather unmistakably being mashed against my arm on a less than accidental basis. So much so that I can feel them now and I'm back at home. By myself, anyhow. She says something about having a "lover" who has a slight weight problem and who is married.
Now allow me to pause here for a moment. The only part of my life that does not work well for me is that part that involves women, romance and sex of any kind on any level. I have a decent amount of money, I am smart, I am acceptably good looking, I read books, mommy taught me how to dress. But that one thing still doesn't work for me. A year or two ago, after not getting laid for a looong time, never being able to rope in a date and seemingly never getting treated by females as though they were even remotely interested in me, I made an agreement with myself that I was going to take that part of my life, put it in a box somewhere in my head and forget it ever existed. I just gave in, adopted a celibate lifestyle and came to accept that the other way was not going to work for me ever and it hadn't really until now, so much so that it was lunacy to ever expect that former way to ever go MY way. On top of that, I already suffer from depression, and every time I'd ask a girl out and get told no (which was always), it threw me for a bigger, harder-hititng loop every time that eventually took me days to pull out of. So I stopped that. I do not ask women out anymore, do not get or give phone numbers (they never got in touch or returned my calls anyhow) and got the fuck on with my life as though love and sex didn't exist at all. It works pretty well and I'm still doing that. I have no plans to give that up either. If I have to get laid one fo these days, I'll go to Mexico and do what I need to do. I had in effect vowed to never put myself out there again for rejection no matter what.
So it should come as no surpise to you, dear readers, that I did absolutely nothing to encourage this girl's flirting. I was nice, I smiled and was energetic about the encounter but I did nothing to her that would not have passed the newspaper test. When she mashed her tits into my arm constantly and rubbed her ass against mine after the band started playing, I said nothing about it yet made no effort to step away. I did not put my hands on her at any time. Had I done that, I would have been making an advance, and she could have been like "Oh that's not what I meant!" and walk off or slap me or something. Being the smart guy that I am, I also knew this was working to my advantage somehow that I was in effect snubbing her. I did keep buying her the occasional beer. To me it was a bargain: she was doing something for me which was virtually forcing me to feel her up, I was doing something for her, which was buying beer. Sounds like a good trade to me. The more I bought the more flirtatioius she got. Now she did say she had a "lover", so I said to her, probably lying "See, I was going to give you my number I think, but now I'm not because I know you don't need me for anything. You have this other guy in your life and that's cool, but if you got him, you don't need me at all.". She lookeed kind of shocked I said that, but so what? It was true. I didn't give a fuck, no what I was going to get laid here anyhow. This was the first time in months my existance as a man was even so much as acknowledged by a woman, so no way I was going to actually get some. How did I know that? Because I virtually never get any.
So she has this guy friend of hers walk up to her and she's flirting with him right in front of me, half jokingly doing some seductive dance moves. Didn't bother me. I stood there like the only thing that was going to upset my universe was if my cup of diet coke ran out. Remember, I had wisely not stuck my neck out into anything here. She then says something about wanting another beer, looking at me, and orders one. She had been ordering, I paying thus far. So the beers come and the bartender looks at me and I look at her like "What you looking at me for?" Then the girl looks at me and I pointed to the guy she was flirting with and said "What about him? I got my diet coke here.". The message was loud and clear: flirt with someone else all you want, but that beer spigot turns off the minute you do that. Let him pay for your fucking beer. And he did.
She kind of wandered off to hang with her friends closer to the stage when (the timing could nto have been better) I ran into a somewhat cute old acquaintance of mine who was more than willing to hug me and hang on me. Good to see her again, too. So I went to take a piss and then stood near where the previous girl was at, talked to her foir a second or two and then turned towards the band (my back to her) to rock out some. So she's then rubbing her ass against mine and occasionaly pinching my ass and rubbing it. I'm kind of getting into that kind of fun, so to reciprocate I occasionally reach back and scratch her back right in the middle. Every time we talked for a few seconds those tits weree mashed against my arm and hand. This was more action than I had seen in two years at least. Her hand even lightly brushed the front of my shorts in the most deft way you could have imagined. But I still was passing the newspaper test.
Eventually ther band finished up and I kind of went towards the door wher she hugged me. I hugged her back but only after she initiated the embrace. I had no intention of giving her my number, I was going to say bye and go. A woman who wants to fuck you does not stand there and tell you she has someone else she is currently doing. Then again, women who want to fuck.....don't talk to me. So she asked what it was I do anyhow and I told her and she's like "Oh can I have a card?" so I gave her one. I do not consider this me giving me her my number, and for two reasons: for one, the connotation is business, and two, my name isn't on it. If she remembers it that's fine, but she'll have to. Oh, and she asked. If I took all the pieces of paper that I wrote or received numbers on that I got or gave women and which never panned out, I'd have a fucking forest by now. So then I walked off.
I did play everything properly, I stand by that. I passed the news paper test (meaning my actions could be described on the front page of the morning paper the next day and I would have nothing to be embarassed about. I at no time allowed myself to be fooled into thinking I was going to get some. Had she said "Let's get out of here and go someplace private" or "let's fuck" I would have, but I invested nothing in that concept, so I had nothing to be dissapointed about. Whatever I did, I for once didn't FUCK UP. True I did so by doing absolutely nothing but smile, talk and be harmlessly charming, but I didn't fuck up. And whatever I did, it got me as far as it did anyhow. She was all over me most of the night so I must have done something right.
I get by in life by not talking to myself about or otherwise putting myself in positons where I have to think about how miserable my sex/romantic life is. If I had to, I'd be pretty fucking depressed. I pretend it doesn't exist. I do not hang out with couples, I do not ask where people met, I do not listen to relationship problems or give advice. I do not hang out at public events where couples do such as street fairs or what have you. But by the time I got to my car I at least felt kind of sad that I have to do it this way, that to protect myself from a series of ongoing rejections, I have to not ever demonstrate proactively that I am in admiration of a girl. Hell, that's usually what turns them off to me to begin with. Then I somehow forgot about it, acknowledged that $20 in beer bought me some tits all over my arm for an hour or two and went home.
* This post has been modified
: 19 years ago
