Thursday, May 5, 2011

Don't Fuck Where You Eat

Lately I've been picking up guys that work at my favourite hangouts. You know the deal, you go there a few times, see the same faces, and pretty soon they're using that an excuse to flirt with you and eventually bang you. Well, me. Anyhoo, I've come to the conclusion that this is a very bad idea. Unless I end up falling in love with one of these random idiot DJs, bartenders, waiters, or bouncers and we get married in Bali at sunset, after our sexy shenanigans are over I can't ever go to these places again.

The DJ

The DJ and I dated for about 3 months, which is generally too brief to turn into a psycho...generally...but not for this girl! That's right! I totally fell for the guy and continued to stalk him throughout last summer, earning me level 5, red-alert psycho status with him, his entire group of friends, his co-workers, and the people in charge of his life insurance policy. Don't worry, no animals were harmed during the Summer of Stalking, I simply drunk-texted him repeatedly, tried to seduce him at every opportunity, and wrote a comic book about what an asshole he is and mailed it to him. I know what you're thinking...it's available for $4.95 plus shipping if you provide me with your address.

The Bartender(s)

The bartender was yummy and he made me yummy drinks. I took him home and let him cum on my face. About a month later I went back to his bar in hopes of the opportunity to cum on his face, but he wasn't working. But did I let that get me down? No way! I took home the new bartender. We fooled around a bit, had some fun, and the subject of roommates came up. What you're about to read is exactly why I wish guys couldn't talk...Bartender number 2 was best friends and roomies with Bartender number 1. Oopsie daisies.

The Waiter

Despite the fact that I own scotch older than this guy, the waiter at my favourite sports bar was really sweet and I enjoyed chatting with him on my several visits to the establishment, which is across the street from my apartment. After flirting a few times at the bar, we hung out sober one night, (imagine that), and watched movies and cuddled (cute). There was a good 5 hours of date time before we actually had sex, and when we finally did, it was mind-blowing. I thought for sure this guy would be back for more, particularly because I live across the street from his work so in order to keep things from being awkward we could at the very least remain sex-buddies. Nope. He never called me again, and the next time I went to the sports bar he said hello and seemed happy to see me, but then left out the back door like I was there with my stalker-vision goggles and machete. Please, it was daytime, I only carry those at night. Idiot.

The Bouncer

I just met the bouncer 2 nights ago and he was really nice and immediately started talking about "dating" and what his wedding ring was going to look like. Sappy yes, but it did the trick, I was totally into him. He got my number and asked me to text him so he knew I got home safe (cute). Then the next day he flirt-texted me all day (double-cute). Then last night, he texts me: "Soooo....I just want you to know I just got out of a serious relationship and am not looking for anything heavy, but I think we could have a lot of fun together." Hm. Now normally I'm 100% on-board with sex-deprived men trying to get over their ex-girlfriends, but don't disguise yourself as a sweet guy who wants nothing more but to cuddle and get married and then turn into a freak as soon as I show interest. I told him to beat it. He replied "I think you're beautiful, let me know if you change your mind." Ya for sure...I'll get right on that. Delete.

Off the top of my head I can think of 5 of my ex-favourite places that I can no longer show my face. Unless I join a Jewish Social Group or AA, I'm running out of places to go. I gotta run, it's $1.99 Deal Day at Denny's and haven't fucked the dishwasher yet.