Nothing says, “get your inner whore together” like waking up to briefs on your floor from one random man, a random one-night stand on some random Monday a month ago.
This particular night, I visited the bar twice. I guess my morning binge wasn’t enough, so I returned at night and met an engineer. Totally my type too. Beard, cute, and he had a belly.
I was feeling particularly frisky that night and threw caution to the wind. We spoke of art, crazy eyes, and reminisced about our vixenated, inebriated, wild and wine-bottle-smashin’ shenanigans in the red light district of Paris, during our years of oblivious innocence.
Suddenly he got serious. He turned me toward him and asked me if I knew what he was thinking. To which I immediately replied, “You want me to sit on your face, don’t you?”
Laughter ensued as he was wickedly impressed that I nailed it. He asked to walk me home. One thing led to the next and we found ourselves swaddled in feather blankets in my living room, not even aware my roommate was home early. Clothing in every corner and a pair of briefs that went missing.
I just want to give a shout out to this man. Because of you, I woke up and gave myself another chance at getting my shit together.
I owe you a lot more than an upside-down blow job (skills). Perhaps, I owe you a new pair of briefs.
At the very least, I’d like to thank you by name. Unfortunately, I can’t remember it.
Singledom was fun, but I’m grounded. Unless Gere comes around. Then we’ll let the dismantling begin. For him, I’d whip out some cirque du soleil. 😉
Next up? Reviewing drunken texts and email. I’m preparing to face my inner psycho.