So last night, I invited the age old disgustingly chiseled break dancer (as I remembered him) over for a drink (translation: sex). He was on the first day of a 9-day detox fast where he drinks water, shakes, and forgoes caffeine and alcohol. So I offered him water. I digress.
He's actually very good looking. A little smaller than I remembered him, and clothes less obnoxious, but I didn't hold it against him (I mean, later I did when I was describing him to my friends, but I didn't at the moment). We caught up on the recent events he was managing at SXSW, and decided that neither of us really cared, so we cut to the chase.
I remember him being 5 times in one night, sleeping in, going in late to work kind of stuff. So imagine my surprise when the rare "in and out, in and out, bang bang" reared it's ugly head. He was finished in 2, I needed another 20.
I mean, I get it. He hasn't gotten any in awhile (that's what happens when you lose 20lbs, buddy), he's on day 1 of his stupid fast, he's been stressed at work, blah blah blah, but you're not even 30 yet. I'll leave him on tap for one more ride, just to make sure it wasn't a fluke, but in my world, 2nd strike, and you're out.
I let him finish me off, it was the least I could offer.
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