[dropcap]So the truth is[/dropcap] I was disappointed with how things with Trucker Joe
turned out. I mean not completely. Not totally. But there was definitely some disappointment. I mean. It was kind of like working on a project. Putting in time and effort. And then your boss tells you that the promotion you were doing all this hard-work for. Is not a possibility. But
he says. They’re looking for a new guy down in human resources and I think you’d be perfect for the job
. So I mean. It’s not the end of the world. It’s not even really that big of a deal. But it’s a disappointment. Because it wasn’t what you were expecting.
So what had I been expecting?
And I should preface this by saying. It’s not like I’d been sitting around. All these last few weeks. Chin resting in palm. Elbow resting on knee. Eyes a-glaze with girlish naiveté and relationship anticipation. Boy please. We all know that’s not who I am. But I did have some hopes. Some expectations.
It’s not a big deal though. But I am disappointed I say, on the phone to my big bro. But I had kind of been hoping that…ya know…he would be my Golden Egg. To which he responded. A guy to buy you shit you mean? And that’s when I realized it. I had my analogies all mixed up. Because that’s not at all what I meant. No I said surprised. Honestly the thought hadn’t occurred to me. I mean. I’m all for a guy buying my coffee. Since I just spent $45 getting a pedi (among numerous other things). But a sugardaddy. I wish lol. So No I say. Not that at all. So what then? he asks. Uh…something I wouldn’t want to talk about with my brother I say. And we move on to other topics.
A conversation with TheHel goes the same way. Except that I can say what I really mean. Though really. She already knows. Because if anything. While I’ve become less sexually outspoken about boys these days. TheHel is ready to pick up the slack on my behalf. In fact. Recently. When asking her hubs to ask a friend of his what he thinks of SSD, like does he think she’s cute? To which his response is something along the lines of how his friend just got out of a relationship and she quickly quips She’s not looking for a soulmate…just someone to stick the dick in her. Though the truth is. Really. I was just kind of thinking me and him could have some fun with TheHel and the hubs. You know. Play some Mario Party. Smoke some weed. And just see what happens. Maybe we just laugh. Maybe we makeout a bit. Whatevs.
But I digress. Back to what I was expecting. What I was hoping for. Honestly. (and I promised TheHel I would include this actual statement *as said in real life* that in fact). I was hoping for someone to stick it to me…at least until Christmas break. And as much as that statement is true. A garaunteed lay does wonders for your ability to focus on school. Just Sayin’. What I was honestly most disappointed about. Was the other stuff. The taking it slow stuff. Because there’s a lot to be said for taking it slow.
Detour. See. It’s not that I wanted a booty call. Because honestly. The opportunities for that are there. I mean they’re not good opportunities. Like Lindsay’s Law. He called the next day. Apologized for being a douche. Tried to make it up. Told me I was awesome (yeah…I know…douche). Asked me out again. But he’s got several factors working against him (small dick, bad…for lack of a better word…lover, sloppy). The thing is. Even if Lindsay’s Law hadn’t had like the smallest not-quite-hard dick known to man. I still wouldn’t be calling him. Okay well it would put him higher on the stable list. But I’m guessing it’d be November before I called. But you can’t hope a small dick big. So there ya go. But the point is. Even if he had one. I’m not excited. Because he was sloppy. And fast. Too fast. Not fun. Too sloppy. Not fun. He was like a puppy. A wet puppy shaking off his fur and getting you all messy. And though you’re like. Okay puppy means well. Honestly you’re like. Motherfucker! He was like a kid. And I kind of figured it out. Because I get that saying. Women are in their sexual prime in their 30s. And I’m 2 weeks till my 29th birthday and it sounds about right. I know what I want now. I know what I like. How to get it. What to do. I’m all over it. Sure there’s always room for learning and experimenting. But the point is. I only just figured this shit out. So Lindsay’s Law. At 26. And he’s probably used to dating. What? Probably like 22 year olds. Who don’t know shit yet? So how are they going to teach him right? He’s got no chance.
Back on Track. So like I was saying. I was disappointed. I was disappointed there wouldn’t be making out on couches in my future. There wouldn’t be a first time in the back of a pickup while camping in the woods. There wouldn’t be first bases. Second bases. Third bases. And home runs. There wouldn’t be. Red Lacies on a bedroom floor. There wouldn’t be. Well. Frankly. Repeatable sex with a white guy. Something I’ve never had. For Reference. Made out with a white guy more than once? Yes. Slept with white guys? A few. Not many. Slept with a white guy more than once? Nope. Seriously? Yep. Totally serious. But mostly. To sum it all up. Completely. I was disappointed. Because it all feels a bit foolish now. Like although I am still pleased with the writing in Tuesday. Hot. Sticky. Delicious. I feel a bit like a moron. Like a tool. Especially when I reread. This part.
He likes me. He respects me. I feel it in his touch. I taste it in his mouth. I can feel his heart pounding in his chest. I. want. you you. I. want. you you. I. want. you you.
Because now I’m like. Aww shit. *palm to forehead* He was probably thinking…
Get. Off. me bitch. Get. Off. me bitch. Get. Off. me bitch. (okay so I’m kinda joking with this one)
Please. Be. attracted. Please. Become. attracted. Please. Be. attracted.
This. Is. bor-ing. This. Is. bor-ing. This. Is. bor-ing.
Or whatever other possibilities there are. But either way. He was not thinking. God you’re sexy. I want your lady bits. I. want. you you. I. want. you you.
So this analogy. I finally figured it out. While out coffee with a friend. I hadn’t meant that I had hoped he was my Golden Egg. I had hoped that he was my Golden Goose. The analogy works with both examples. Example 1 Example 2. In example one the Golden Goose leads to a smiling princess. In example two the goose lays golden eggs (till they kill it but that part isn’t necessary). But the point is. Trucker Joe. Turns out. Neither. At least. Not in the way I was hoping. And part is me is totally fine with that. Truth be told the biggest part of me is fine with it.
The other part. Is a bit pissed. No lie. But is it really Trucker Joe’s fault? That I’m not so sure. The thing is. I’ve spent basically the last two months dating him. Every week. Every week like clockwork. He asks. And we go out. Now I’ve been free to date other boys during this time. And I have. But the thing is. I’ve been pickier (not always a bad thing). More dismissive of other boys. My blocked list on POF is easily 75 boys deep. No joke. And while not my prince charmings. Perhaps there were a couple boys in there. Who had Golden Goose potential. Potential to be not retarded and the ability to stick it to me in a manner I deem fit until Christmas break. Now sure enough. I’m likely to blame. But I can’t help but thinking. I sure do wish Trucker Joe had just told me this ages ago. Instead of making me wring it out of him after suffering date after date of confusion. And I know I said only moments ago that a part of me was pissed. But I’m not even sure pissed is the right word. Because I’m not really angry. It’s just kind of like. That sucks. *shrugs*
And the final part of the disappointment. Is the confusion. That accompanies it. Because here’s the thing of the thing. I get it. If you don’t like my personality. And thus don’t want to spend time with me. And I get it if you don’t think I’m attractive. And thus never want to get physical with me. I even get it if I’m just your jump off or booty call or whatever so that you find me sexually attractive but are not marking the territorial limits around me for whatever reason. But what I don’t get. Is the making out? Is the making out and me being the one to be like…slow that down. Is the move making by Him? I don’t understand what happened there. And so I asked him. Via facebook.
What was with the kissing? like…if you’re not attracted to me…why was there any kissing? Was it just a case of…well…I’ll just give it a try and hope an attraction to her grows? Did my one time mention of it via text make you feel super pressured or something? Did you just do it as some sort of misguided attempt to placate me so that I wouldn’t stop hanging out with you? Another reason I haven’t thought of? And honestly I’m asking in the most non-critical but super curious…I have to know the answer to things kind of way 🙂
And we’ll just have to see. There might be answers forthcoming. There might be none. There’s always the possibility of no response at all. We’ll see. But afterall. What have I got to lose? Because while school is on. I can justify throwing on some makeup and doing my hair. Getting a pedi and shaving my legs. For a quick romp in the hay. For a friend. For a friend that I wouldn’t feel comfortable being in my jogging pants, hoodie, and built in bra shirt, hair up in an ugly knob thing and no makeup in sight. That’s a whole other story. Though technically. When leaving. That last night with him. I joked. That he would be getting the comfortable bras in his future. So who knows.
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