Time to make the whole Fucking-A-Nameless-Guy story some justice… Just not in the name of dignity. To be frank, I do it because this will be my only chance to tell a story of two guys fighting over me, especially, since no one ever asks “How did you and that guy, who you dated for about a month, long time ago, met?”
Context: Costume party; open bar, life was pretty great.
Breaking every single rule girls stand for, I went to the bathroom by my own. Once I got out I found a rather cute guy who goes to one of my classes. If you have read my blog long enough you will know my motto is ‘god bless vodka’, luckily, Cute Guy shares my ideology. He flirted his ass off and I pretended not to be wishing for that moment since I first saw him. As I later found out, this guy had a tiny crush on me; vodka, being the adorable social lubricant it is, helped him make a move.
I don’t know if this generation doesn’t stand for a bro code anymore because Cute Guy’s friends knew what was going on and thought it would be cool to mess around a bit. They distracted him by taking his drink, wallet and probably virginity, they were that mean… Then, they brought out the big guns.
“Hey! You’re the Mexican One, right…? You should totally meet Dude, he has family in Mexico… DUDE! Come here!”
Apparently, a couple of stories about my homeland and a three-hour walk around town at a -2°C (28°F) degree weather make a perfect road out of my panties.
You see, without the sex, the story is kinda blah… Which is the same thing I could say about Dude. After another lousy date, this time, without an apparent reason (other than ‘we already wasted our three conversation topics’), I cut the crap and asked him if he was having fun. I received a vague answer, for a change. In case his sweet little mind didn't understand the question, I rephrase it to “do you really want to keep this going?”… This happened:
“It’s the kind of thing you have to think about…”
This is the moment when I used my “biting tongue” ability not to shout: AM I EVER GOING TO GET A STRAIGHT ANSWER OUT OF YOU, FUCKER?
Instead, I went for this:
“I’m not asking you anything complicated and there’s no hidden agenda… It’s simple as: You like someone, you want to keep seeing him/her.”
When he blurted the “I have to think about it” crap again a red light flashed inside my pretty head warning me to run away fast… Since very few things in my life are ever so evident I, literally, turned around and left. We were already at my front door, it wasn’t that dramatic.
I guess I should have seen it coming when he told me he didn’t read fiction… Or novels, for that matter, since they were not a productive way to waste his time. Oh, fuck your productivity, Age of Empires freak!
…I wonder how hard would Cute Guy’s door hit me in the ass if I come back to him.