7.13.2007

Your Evil Influence

Miranda!--
You are a bad, bad influence! Even just reading your blog emits lascivious energy. I actually went home with a guy from a bar that I spoke to all of 10 minutes, he walked me home, I said he could stay, but no sex and then BAM! Sex! I have never, ever gone home with a stranger and I have never slept with someone I met in a bar. Must.Stop.Drinking.
You know I don't really blame you but I knew you would get a kick out of it. Actually, the entire evening was bizarre and utterly random all the way down to a cab ride. Funny thing is I was going to ask you if you wanted to go out last night. You, Slutty-Slutty Bang Bang, would have SAVED me from sluttiness. I have no idea if that is ironic or not. I'll let you be the judge.
--Lisa

L--
That. Is. Fantastic.
You are so right, I do get a kick out of that. Now guess what I did? Two nights ago at about midnight, I'm about to got to bed, and my phone rings. No, it's not Nicholas Mathisen, but rather Nicholas D*****s--another "Nick the Writer" that I had a brief fling with some months ago, ending with me stating, very clearly I thought, that: "We cannot have sex anymore." Period. Anyway, so he said he was in the nieghborhood, and comes over bearing a six pack. About an hour into it, and totally fucking randomly I might add, he leans in to kiss me. True story.
So I'm like, "Nick, listen. Umm...I have alot of boys on my plate right now. Complicated boys. And I don't really feel like complicating things more right now."
His reply?
"Miranda. Please. Just complicate it."
Now this hearkens back to the original reason I had to stop sleeping with him--Boys like him, as a rule, CANNOT FUCKING TALK TO ME LIKE THAT. I get to tell them what to do. Period.
Boys like what you ask? Boys that are a few years my junior, and an inch shorter than me. And have red hair. And pretty much anyone except Mathisen who's somehow aloud to say things like: "a Milkshake sounds good right now." Save select instances, it just cannot happen. Not if I'm sleeping with you.
Anyway, so a boy in my bed I did have that night--as Nick stayed over--but "Bam! Sex!"?
Nope.
Ironic? Yes, I'm pretty sure; at least the combination of those two stories seems to be.
Funny? Yeah that too. Ironically.
--M

M--
The actual entire night is somewhat more funny as I went to Amber to meet a guy I actually like and we have been meaning to hook up but schedules kept getting in the way. You met him at Amber, good-looking black guy. Well, he emails me and says "Amber tonight?"
Since for once I am not wearing overalls (I rarely if ever wear them but the 2 times I have seen him, fucking ugly overalls), I say "Sure! What time?"
"9:30"
"Oh, that's too late. I need to be home by 10:30 tops. But I may stop in for a quickie." "Oh, well. I am not into quickies. ; )" His smiley face, not mine. But he says he will be there anyway.
Well, I decide "what the fuck" and hang out at work until late and take a long cab ride to Amber. Cab ride might have been the best part of the whole evening. Driver was Palestinian and we had a GREAT conversation regarding Mid East politics and the finer points of Judaism and Islam. I really didn't want the ride to send.
Swing into Amber at 10:00, no Boy. So I take a seat on the same couch where we sat and in truly nerdy fashion, in a completely packed bar teaming with humanity, I READ THE NEWSPAPER! Talk about looking like a loser. But at least I am NOT wearing overalls. Two guys sit down, one next to me on the little sofa, the other across, and they begin talking about the new Harry Potter movie. I ask how it was. He says "Great! Best one so far."
Now I am a little surprised as the critics haven't thought to much of it and it was the least interesting of the books to me. So we launch into this HUGE conversation about the series. Talk about truly nerdy, just paint an "L" on my forehead. That's when I spot that evil guy I pointed out to you before. Thank God, I was deep in conversation and there were too many people standing in front of me to be seen. One thing leads to another and they're all "Let's go to Amnesia!" By now it is 11:30 and still no BOY. What the fuck? I beg off, it's a school night (that came back to bite me because for the rest of the night they kept thinking I was a teacher), etc., etc.
"Aw, c'mon! It's on your way home anyway." Hmm, he has a point. We all pile into a cab with a 4th in tow and what do you know? Same cab driver! Only now I have 3 drunk boys w/ me so no philosophical conversation. Not that the drunk Irish guy didn't try.
Anyhoo, much more happens (running out of steam writing), and bounce on to Dalva and Delirium. Now I am fairly drunk and I am standing watching the dancers and a cute boy walks over and asks why I am smiling and I make some stupid comment like these kids have no idea how to dance to this music (old school). So he asks me to dance and proceed to make a COMPLETE ass out of my self because I am too drunk to dance well. That's when I decide "That's it! Time to go home!" He offers to walk me since it's late (2:00 fucking o'clock! I said I had to be home 10:30 tops!) and I say OK but you're not staying. And well, you know the rest.
Oh! And what time did the Boy arrive at Amber? 10 minutes after I left.
--Lisa


Now isn't that ironic. Ten minutes after she left? Nuts.
On a side note, I LOVE Harry Potter--books, movies, the whole gamut.
I'm having the "L" tattooed on my forehead later on today.
--M

2 comments:

lisa said...

Did you know some other fool has a blog called I am a Jelly Doughnut? In SF? http://guyver3.livejournal.com/

By the way, our 2 stories? Same night.

huntsmanic said...

today's lunchtime example of something i couldn't believe that made me squint for a long time before deciding it's not ironic:

"More than two decades later, it is hard to imagine the Revolutionary War coming out any other way." —President Bush, July 4, 2007.