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Here's a good one for "doesn't matter, had sex."
I've been kind of, sort of, not really seeing a woman I knew when I was growing up. It's been going on for about two months, but we haven't gone out on a real date, and any time I ask her to do something, she finds a reason not to go. The only times we do anything together, there ends up being...'chaperons,' because she'll invite me to go to the lake house where her sister's family lives, or out to watch football games with her friends, or to gatherings at her house. Seeing each other at the gym a few nights a week is the closest we come to actually having a date.
She maintains a proper "I'm not interested" social distance when she's completely stone-cold sober, but most of the time when we do things together, it involves drinking. After a few drinks, she starts entering my personal space, like she'll put her hand on my chest or my shoulders. The more she drinks, the progressively touchier she gets, and we've made out a few times. Then she'd piss me off by pretending she didn't remember jack shit about the day/night before and doing the whole "glad we're friends" routine, and promise we'd go out 'soon,' which I thought was just her way of playing coy and stringing me on to see how much bullshit I'd tolerate.
Since I don't tolerate a lot of bullshit, even from someone who has had 20+ years to build up credits, I quit calling/texting her...twice. The first time, she sent me a text after a few days and asked me to come over for yet another big gathering, and I accepted her invitation because a lot of people I had grown up with but hadn't seen in years were going to be there. That night, she had a full house of overnight guests, and she slept downstairs with (not sex, actual sleeping), but there was the usual "I've had a few, so let's touch each other---no wait, I'm sober and I don't do that," so after another week of similar bullshit, I quit calling her again.
Our order for that big game had a deadline for the PS3 servers this week, so we've been working late. I got home too late to bother with the gym Monday night, and Tuesday while I was working late, around 8 pm, she texts me and asks me if I'd quit going to the gym already. I told her I hadn't and explained the situation. She told me she also had a big project deadline coming up, and had been doing crazy hours at the office and at home, and that after Wednesday she'd have some free time. Wednesday, she sends me a text and tells me that now that her project is complete, her boss was comping her the overtime by sending her home at lunch Wednesday and giving her Thursday off and that she'd see me at the gym. Well, for whatever reason, even though I made to the gym Wednesday, she wasn't there, so I sent her a text and she asked me to come over to her house. I went over because I had some spare martini glasses and a shaker in the car that I was going to give her, because she'd asked me to show her how to make martinis, and I wanted to get them out of the car before they were broken. We talked for a while on Wednesday, and she really like the glasses, and I went home.
So Thursday, I'm still of the mindset that there is nothing going on there, and she just gets a little too friendly when she drinks. I was pretty happy to think that was the case because there is a much younger woman I am very interested in, and she seems to be fairly interested in me, too. So I had been flirting with this woman a lot, in person and in text, since the last time I gave up on Ms. Drinkytouch.
Around lunchtime on Thursday, Ms. Drinkytouch started blowing my goddamn phone up. She had the whole day off, and nothing to do, and because Winchester here sucks ass and there's nothing to do, I guess she thought I was supposed to keep her entertained. I did, but only because what I was doing involved a lot of sitting waiting on drives to clone and things being connected in the netmap and other bullshit...lots of empty space waiting for machines to do machine stuff after I pushed buttons. Around 3, she tells me she's just going to start drinking, because there's nothing else to do, and the text marathon continues. Around 5, she starts asking me "when are you getting back here/off work?" Around 7, she starts doing frantic "I really want you to come over and hang out" texts," and when it's suggested we can't get shit-else done for the day, I back that decision and shot out the door. I figured I'd stop by Drinkytouch's place, have a beer or two, go to the store to get some stuff, then I'd come home and finish getting things ready for a party we had last (Friday) night.
She sent me texts all the way home, which I couldn't answer because I was driving. I finally answered after I pulled up in front of her townhouse, her last text being, "Where are you at?" I send back, "Your Place, knock on the door incoming." I give the text a minute, stroll up to the door, and before I even knock, she pulls it open and hands me one of the PBRs I left there the last time I visited. The only thing I'd had to eat all day were two peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches, and she kept tossing PBRs at me. She was already into her second bottle of wine by the time I got there, so of course she was all touchy-feely, and after the third PBR I knew I wouldn't be leaving anytime soon.
We talked for about an hour and then she started playing some music, and for a while we kept talking, the topic changing to the music and what we liked, and then out of the blue she starts dancing. I'm on PBR six-or-seven at this point, and I'm feeling kind of drunk because it's six-or-seven beers on an empty stomach in the course of an hour, so I start dancing with her, and we're having a good time and still talking. At this point, I figure it's still going to be one of those nights where she's super-friendly until it's time to go to bed, then she'll leave me on the couch, and I'm OK with that because, like I said, there's this other chick and I'm really into her, and she's supposed to be at my party on Friday, so I'm looking forward to that.
So since I can't live a life without any sort of complications and cluster-fuckery, Ms. Drinkytouch turns around and grabs me my the back of the head...and I mean GRABS, like a fistful of hair...pulls my head and locks onto my face like one of those alien pod babies that fuckerized Sigourney Weaver's life in several very successful sci-fi movies. I'm a little fuzzy on details, but there are two things I know: #1: She started tearing clothes off of me in the kitchen (which is where I finally found my shirt and hat), and #2: even though I have really let myself go, I am still enough of a powerhouse to pick a grown woman up and sprint a flight a stair while carrying her...I took those fuckers like two at a time, no joke.
So, thanks to alcohol and twenty some odd years of pent up sexual frustration involving this woman, the only thing in my brain is...well, that should be obvious. There are no other considerations, like that other woman I'm more interested in that isn't all bi-polar-passive-aggressive about whether she likes me or not...or the party I need to do things for...or being able to go to work the next day...or anything at all, and I shagged her rotten. We fell asleep curled up together naked, and I woke up when she got up to go to the bathroom a few hours later, so I went downstairs (still naked, like a boss) got us both some bottled water and came back up. I find her standing at the bathroom door, naked and hugging herself, shaking her head and muttering something, so I ask her what's wrong, and she says, "I'm cold." So naturally I pull her up close, which leads to her kissing me some more and some other things and then BAM!!!! Round 2, so I'm feeling pretty good that not only can I leap a flight stairs in a few bounds carrying someone, I can also bang the gong slowly twice in one night. We fall out curled around each other naked again after I make sure her alarm is set.
I woke up to the alarm, and she's not in the bed anymore. She comes in wearing the clothes from the night before, tells me she doesn't "do that kind of thing" and what happened was a mistake, because "she's trying to be a better person and going to church." Then she starts freaking out about pregnancy (she's not on the pill because "she doesn't do that kind of thing," and I was too wasted and eager to remember the BOX OF FUCKING CONDOMS IN MY GLOVE BOX--DERP), and I have to tell a 38 year-old woman about Plan B, something about which she apparently has never heard. The drinking on the empty stomach, the physical exertion, my allergies, and God knows what else had set off a migraine, and by this point, I'm kind of pissed that she's blaming the alcohol for her making a booty-call (which is totally what happened), but I can't focus and am lucky to be standing because the world is a wash of bright light and pain.
So I promise to get her the morning-after pill, while stumbling out the door into the bright-ass fucking sunlight with my head exploding. My house is half a mile away, a two minute drive, but it takes me ten because the migraine is making me vomit and I have to stop several times. I get my migraine medication and take it and some pain-killers, call my boss and let him know I'm coming in late, take a nap, get up and shower, go to the bank, get the pills, and go to work. When I meet her nearby at lunch to give her the pills, everything about her is screaming "don't get close to me."
So:
I'm a 'mistake.'
If I'm reading her texts right, she's embarrassed to be seen with me, and doesn't want anyone to know about 'us.'
But you know what?
Doesn't matter. Had sex.
Your Pal,
Jubber
AKA "The Gun"
AKA "ROFeraL"
World Renowned Mexican Forklift Artiste
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