Sunday, August 3, 2008

I'm all Morrissey and shit

Catching up on reading, work, etc. has left me in a social void.

I did go out on Friday night to see a band...I have a crush on the lead singer and would love to make sexy time with her...we'll see. Also saw another girl who I met a couple of months ago and hopefully rekindled a little of what was going on when we first met.

I'm in my head at the moment and just letting things be. Also, my living situation doesn't really allow for privacy right now...once that's squared away, we should be back to dating 3 to 4 nights a week....so stay tuned.

If you dig this blog, send a link to your friends, enemies, ex-lovers, etc. If you're in a similar situation, feel free to get in touch: datingdoofus@gmail.com, and I'll publish your experiences here all anonymous and likesay.

Saturday, July 26, 2008

Poutty Cock Block

Tania came out to see me perform last night. She came after my set. I haven't seen her since we sucked face in front of my old place.

She was beautiful. Oh dear god beautiful.

Her friend was with her and she told me a bit of his story with his current girlfriend and I said 'eww', and she agreed.

We left and went to a bar a few blocks away. I was so not in the mood for drinking, but had a gin anyway. Drank half of it. Then her friend, we'll call him Poutty since all he did was pout. I think he wants more than a platonic friendship with Tania and saw me as a threat.

I don't want a platonic friendship with her, I want to ravish her, to kiss all ten of her little piggies, to smell the small of her back, to fall asleep in her arms. Platonic ain't happening.

She said to me, let's grab a cup of coffee and we left Poutty with someone he was talking to. The vibe was weird at that bar anyway.

At the cafe I ordered ice tea and she got a cappuccino. We held hands all the way to the cafe. I loved holding her hand. She kept up those dark, sensuous eyes and I spun. Just holding her hand made it move down there. I didn't let it go.

We sat outside and she smoked and I listened to her. We have different opinions on some things. She's a victim of over education, when they strip the creativity out of you and make things like books, music and films something to discuss and critique, not to create.

Then Poutty came back and pouted and she said, I'm so sorry, I'm such a bad friend. It was his only available night out since his girlfriend was out of town. Another red flag on that relationship since I don't deal well with smothering.

She kissed me good bye, in front of him. I felt the tension, and her lips. He wanted to go home and for her to give him a ride.

Lame. If I was in that situation I would've said, 'no, no, I'll take a cab, you guys relax'.

--------

Back up a few hours and I was talking to the door girl at the bar where I did my show and was chatting her up and it was her last night in town, so I was sensing another one night stand, before the lady leaves, we were connecting, but I turned around and there's Tania.

There might have been sexy time with the fourth person of my whole life and I made sure to hang with Tania, even though it was a bit fucked up and weird.

I'm determined to get her out alone this week. I do have a deadline because I want to take a date to an industry function in September, but it's an important one, so the person I take I'll have had to have a few official dates and have sexual tension released if you know what I mean.

At this point I'm going stag.

Friday, July 25, 2008

Oh My Beloved Tania

Tania finally got in touch with me via email. I was a bit irked at first since it took her so long to get in touch. We talked about moving forward, then she backed off. After a few more email exchanges I assured her there were no expectations and that I really enjoyed our time together, aka, the best make out session of my life, and our intimate conversation about heartbreak, and I would like to take her to dinner.

She’s on my list. I haven’t taken anyone on an official date and there’s an event happening towards the end of September that I want to bring someone special to. But someone better get special quick since I don’t want to take someone I haven’t been on a date yet or slept with yet. I don’t want the sex tension there, I want the lust to be pouring out like Lawrence Welk bubbles…so we can enjoy the event and ravish each other afterwards….I want to know I’ll be ravished.

Dammit, she’s going to be a keeper if this works out and not sure I’m ready for that…but fuck it, let’s do this, let’s have some heartbreak…there’s no fun, or material without heartbreak.

We’re exchanging emails and I smell her hair across the internet.

For those playing along at home, this was the lady who I put a hole in her dress with my smoldering ash. I offered to buy her another dress and I’m praying it wasn’t designer.

She sent me this:

http://www.strindbergandhelium.com/index.html

Dammit, she’s so cool. Stringberg? Fuck me. No seriously, fuck me.

Moleskin, revisited

She’s at my friend’s bar up the street and I say her name and she remembers me and says she’ll be right back and she doesn’t come right back.

After hanging with some friends I seek her out and tell her how much I enjoyed our conversation from a few nights ago. She invites me to a photo exhibition she’s having, naked chicks, she likes to photograph erotica. I ask if she’s into the ladies and she says no.

(+10 points)

She’s dressed in a frumpy sweatshirt, not like her rockabilly self from a few nights earlier. I like that. I give her a hug. Lots of punk rock guys showing her attention.

I get home and find more info on her exhibition. She’s in a band in my city. (-25 points). I’m not sexing any band members since I’m in the music scene and girls talk and I don’t need the talkin’ right now, just some lovin’.

Dammit.

She’s in a band I’m familiar with, but have never seen live. Now I know why she knew who I was. But she said she was excited that I interviewed two writers who are her favorite writers….so she reads (+25 points).

Monday, July 21, 2008

She Whipped Out Her Moleskin

i was at the ____ bar and it was one of those moods of not wanting to connect with people...the DJ was kicking out the jams, nick cave, tom waits, holy shit, i wasn't moving from the bar stool and this girl came up to me and said, i want to show you something.

i said okay.

she pulled out a moleskin notepad (+10 points), and showed me my business card (+2 points for keeping it in her moleskin notepad). i couldn't remember who she was, then we started talking about writing and writer's groups and she asked about my novel and we got on the subject of suicide and how we both have been to that dark place, but couldn't ever carry it out b/c too many people would be hurt...and she's had suicides in her life also (+25 points for mutual tragedy).

then she cleaned my glasses for me because she said they were dirty. she was right, and more beautiful when i could see her clearly.

it's amazing how dirty glasses can get, but when i wear them i don't notice because they get progressively dirty.

i know there's an analogy to relationships there.

Sunday, July 20, 2008

Cry Misty For Me

cute. skinny. dark black hair.

"are you drinking rum and coke," was my brilliant ice breaker and after that we were talking about music and relationships.

her boyfriend just told her that he had a threesome and she needed to move. she moved to another part of town that she doesn't really like.

her dad has cancer and she's been helping him.

i felt connection. connection to the tragedy. connection to the fucked up way some humans have no compassion for heartbreak, how they'll stick their arms right up the anal cavity and just squeeze the heart until it bursts.

i liked her.

then she said, she doesn't believe in love, she believes we settle.

that's where she lost me. i believe in love. i don't want anyone to settle for me, i want someone to love me like i love them.

after being in a long marriage, i understand marriage involves falling in and out of love with the person and the commitment keeps it together as well as the friendship. but what the hell do i know, i thought things were fine with my ex and me until she started drinking a lot more than usual and her personality completely changed and the next thing i know she's been tappin' other penis.

--------

had dinner alone at a local restaurant. sat next to a girl named janet who was kind of cute and talked her up for a while. i wasn't in the mood to ask her on a date or get her phone number. i only felt like spreading my wings without having expectations in my head.

-------

went to a club and the doorman waved me through. i didn't know him, but he seemed to know me. there was one empty stool and an older man, (older than me), was talking up a young lady (23 i found out later). I sat between them and tried to steer clear of getting in the way, just claim a seat before the night got crowded.

i looked across the bar and it was three people deep. a friend of mine was tending and threw a kettle/tonic to me. free entry, free first drink, free from a relationship that included fundamentalist religion forced down my throat before she got so frustrated she just cheated on me and lied about it. love, love, love christianity as defined by religious zealots. go fuck a kid.

the girl said we met before, and my face memory really sucks and we talked for a while and peter, the older guy, bought us all, her girlfriend, her and me a round of drinks.

turning out to be a great night.

kept hanging with the 23 year old lisa when peter scammed on her friend who said she was lesbian...later turned out she was bi-sexual, so she was just trying to lose him.

he turned out to be a decent guy. we talked a bit and he used to be a junkie and quit heroin years ago. he kept putting hundreds on the bar and walking away when $80 worth of change was sitting there. i pulled him back when he walked away, 'keep an eye on your change', i said and felt protective of him. he lives in the 'hood, so i'll see him again.

i did the, 'let's go outside and smoke' move to lisa, hoping for a kiss, but when we got outside and the girl i have a crush on who is a total train wreck and keeps telling me to shave my 'stache gives me an immediate hug and shows me attention and lisa walks away. a few more people approached me, but i saw the deal break w/ lisa. which is good b/c she's a bit too young for me, cute as hell, but i'll keep seeing her around and would rather not have any weirdness.

Saturday, July 19, 2008

Now it's THREE

This week is going to be a rough week emotionally for a variety of reasons I can't explain here.

So, dropping Joanne off at a cab at 5:30am last night was a perfect way to start the week.

Women I've had sex with in all my life now is 3.

We talked after sex. I'm realizing I love kissing so much, almost more than sex. Ravishing mouth rape kissing. Hands on soft parts kissing. Teeth clicking kissing.

Let me back up a bit. At 9pm I'm having a glass of wine at Camille's bar and she keeps refilling my glass. Then I pop down to see a friend's DJ set at a niteclub down the street and it's dead, so I stay for two drinks and pop down to check on one of my favorite bars to see if a there's a decent DJ and more......ladies......

The bar is dead as well, but the DJ plays some great music and the drinks are flowing and I start talking with her. Before I know it we're DJing together.

I can tell she hasn't showered in a day or so and it turns me on.

We dance and a local stoner metal band comes in after they just performed across town, so we get fucked up more and hang around them and keep spinning on the turntables.

Outside, 2:30am and Joanne and I are walking towards her bus stop when we just start kissing. I can't remember who started it, but it was heavy petting kissing on a very busy street, in public view. We find a dark alley and kiss more.

We can't go back to my place because I have relatives in town, but at the end of the night I find out she thought I had a girlfriend or wife at home, but I was serious, relatives, helping me through this rough week, so taking her to my paper thin walled apartment that's barely a one bedroom was out of the question and she still lived with her ex-boyfriend to take advantage of the rent control, so we decided to walk a few blocks to a secluded part of the neighborhood and a bench.

Do you have a condom? she asks.

It's the first time I get to use a condom that I purchased last week for the first time. She had the largest natural breasts I've ever touched and sucked on in my life.

We had sex, and sex again, and sex again. Too much drink in me made me the stay hard king but no go on cuming....yet very close.

Three hours later and we're on a busy street waiting for a cab.

She said we're just friends and I liked that. She's not my type for a relationship, but I really needed some crazy abandon. And she didn't shave down there, so refreshing in a world of hitler mustaches.

We cuddled and talked and I can't wait until I'm living alone in a few weeks so this will be a no brainer, just bring a lady back to my house.

She was bi-sexual and we talked about that and she's been in threesomes and had no clue that she was the third girl I banged. Or maybe she did.

I do feel a little like a man-whore right now. Two one night stands in a month, yet I've only had sex three times in my life.

I know this is going to get old quick and I can't wait until I have a relationship. Someone to take to dinner and cuddle with and take to see bands. Or a couple of rotating relationships until timing and attraction smack me upside the head.

With STD concern, I'm making sure not to bite my cuticles since they seem to end up inside vaginas and having a boo-boo on my finger might leave me open for something that would really suck.

Thanks Joanne for the night on the bench. Thanks for the sex dreams afterwards. Thanks for being my number three.

I know I'll see her around town because we travel in the same music circles. Is there an encore presentation?

Monday, July 14, 2008

We'll Be Back in Two and Two

Elena emailed me back and wants to get together. I didn't scare her off. My hormones jump for joy and I plan our life together in South America, pooping out kids while she sees patients and I work on music.

We plan to meet at the cafe to exchange music on our computers. She wants to share her Latin music and I want to get her up to speed on goth and punk rock. It's our second try to hook up and I make sure to wash myself really good.

She calls me 10 minutes before we're supposed to meet.

"My friend is here and we want to go to the jazz festival across town," she says.

The last thing I dig is festivals during the day because it brings out all the amateur partiers and the chicken on a stick and artwork always sucks and it's not my scene in any way. I want to live under the dark of night.

I tell her I'm not interested and she says she'll give me a call later to hook up for dinner.

At this point I'm frustrated because she didn't even consider the option of keeping our date if I wasn't interested in going to the festival with her.

Later that night she calls around 8pm and says she already ate dinner, but will come watch me eat. I ask if she drinks and we end up at a bar I go to sometimes and it turns out there's a great jazz band playing, so this may work out after all.

We talked and she's staying with her aunt. She had to tell her aunt that she was going to meet someone who would give her computer help and couldn't say she was meeting me for a drink. That was red flag number one since she's 29 and just crashing at her aunt's house for the next month or so. Red flag number two was when she told me her aunt thought she was asleep and she wasn't, but her aunt went through all of her bags and clothes. What did Elena do? She pretended she was still asleep.

I would've told her to get the fuck out of my shit.

Then we talked about punk and how she used to be into the music when she was younger, but she doesn't like to listen to it because she's not really angry anymore. I don't know if she's talking about MTV punk rock or local bands or what.

The sparks, the life with my little half latin half white kid on a beach in South America went kerplunk.

She wanted me to walk her to her car. I'm not sure if she wanted a kiss, then she offered to drive me home, but I had her stop at Camille's bar for a couple of drinks. To soak up my disappointment.

Not that Elena wasn't a sweet girl. 'Chuck, we didn't have a love connection.'

Sunday, July 13, 2008

Slap Happy

Camille wears her black tank top. It contrasts with her white skin and her boobs push out, asking for air. I'd love to work on them for her.

I get to the bar and it's all men. She gives me a glass of wine and down the bar some 40-something dude pukes all over the bar and the floor.

I wonder if it's a sign. His friend cleans up the puke as Camille comes near me, trying not to let it become contagious. Her fingers are to her lips. I'd go into the bathroom with her and hold her blonde hair out of the toilet if she needed to heave. I think other thoughts as well.

I left because the puke vibe was a buzz kill and I popped down to a hipper bar a few blocks away.

They were playing good music and I sat in the corner and started talking to a bookish type girl who slightly reminded me of Miranda July. Kathleen told me how she doesn't talk to her parents anymore since her dad is dead drunk all the time and she can't handle it. She got beat up in high school.

I tell her about my religious upbringing. I feel like we're connecting.

I'm going outside to have a cigarette, I say and she follows me. We smoke and she tells me how a guy at her work was fired for having tuberculosis and that she and her co-workers have had to undergo testing for it.

Can tuberculosis be transfered by kissing, I ask.

Right after she says 'no', I plant my lips on hers and we kiss. Then she slaps me.

What the hell was that? I said and she had no answer.

You kissed back, I said and she continued talking about another DJ night where I should show up at. A guy a few feet away bums a cigarette off me and I take that as my chance to get away from slap happy.

I go back to where Camille is working and the place is jumping. I tell some of the people I know about getting slapped.

I see Kathleen a few days later with a friend of mine from the music biz. I thought there would be weirdness if I saw her again, but I thought it was funny, so I told her friend about our kissing then her whacking me in the face.

She's into slapping, he says.

I wasn't offended, if I really was offended I would've kicked you in the balls, she says.

They invite me to drink at another bar, but I have a band to see down the road so I decline.

At The Bar

men leave with women
women leave with me
i leave with less money
in my pocket
and tomorrow's hangover

Saturday, July 12, 2008

She Needs Computer Help

My friends down the street at the cafe are looking out for me. They know I'm single now and are excited to try and set me up with ladies.

Sarah, the girl who works at the cafe calls me and says, "Get down here, there's a cute girl that needs help with her computer, she can't get on the network."

"You're joking."

"No, I'm serious and she looks smart."

I had just parked my car very far away...the urban dilemma....and it was muggy outside, but I buck up and go to the cafe all sweaty.

I knew exactly who she was when I walked in. She had blue eyes and long dark hair. Dressed in a t-shirt and jeans and spunky. Sarah introduces me to Elena.

We start working on her computer and it looks like she's having a firewall issue. "Do you do this a lot?" she asks. I wonder if she smells the rat.

"Once in a while the employees are scared to reboot the router so I do it for them. I'm friends with the owner," I tell her.

We had to let her system reboot and it was an old computer so it gave me time to talk. She's a psychiatrist, ten years younger than me and only in the United States until the end of August when she goes back to South America.

I'm not ready for a relationship since I don't want it to be a rebound, but I could use an affair del fuego with someone...get intense in her heart and soul and in six weeks we're both crying our eyes out at the airport since the affair would be over with.

She asks me about music and the type of psychiatry she practices I'm familiar with so I suggest a writer who has studied a similar field. Then, we can't figure out her computer problem but end up talking for another 45 minutes. She ends up knowing my work, which is a big plus, and we set a date to hang out again.

Sarah said she watched the body language of Elena change when I sat with her...she became relaxed and very open and was totally into me.

On Tuesday I go to the cafe to meet Elena at 2pm. I'm working and then the clock strikes 3pm. I only have her email address, so I send her a note that I'm at the cafe and if I got the time wrong. 4pm roles by. People I know in the cafe know that I'm waiting for a girl because I couldn't stop bragging about it to everyone I was so excited.

I leave. Stood up. By the woman who was going to get naked with me and I was going to take to dinner and karaoke.

At around 8pm I get an email from her that she had the wrong time with her professor at her school and was stuck on campus and didn't have my phone number and she was really sorry and wanted to hook up again.

My affair del fuego is back in action.

I go drinking with a friend from Australia, then drinking some more and at 2am I get on the computer, which should have a breathilizer, and write her an email. I tell her that I really want to spend a lot of time with her and since her time in the United States is so short it's really important that we hang out a lot...yeah, I went there.

The neon sign that says desperate just clicked on over my head.

The rest of the day I walked with my shoulders slumped knowing I ruined my chance to see Elena naked, a lot.

Friday, July 11, 2008

I wear rings but stopped wearing my wedding ring. I find myself feeling for it with my thumb and notice that it's missing. If I forget to put my rings on and leave the house I have to go back or I sense something's wrong.

Getting used to not having a wedding ring on is a bit strange, and reminds me of a cheating, lying person. I've been in therapy for years and really kicked up my appointments because I don't want to bring the malicious actions of a person I used to love as baggage into another relationship. And I want to be just as vulnerable....life without vulnerability is a shallow shell of existence.

This is a dating blog and not a divorce blog, so let's get bangin'.

There's a girl that I've had a huge crush on for years. She wears glasses and has that wonderful looking quality I try to find in all my friends.

A reader.

I see her at the end of the bar and sit next to her. She's had a few and we talk about books. She never finishes books, only starts them. That's a new one and I don't know where to take that. She's hot but maybe has attention issues....at least she's trying.

She tells me about her boyfriend. I won't move forward with a woman who's in a relationship...being on the receiving end of that, it's not fair on so many levels for many people.

But we still talk and it looks like they're breaking up soon.

Then she tells me I need to shave my mustache. That was the deal breaker. Take me for who I am.

Two nights later I'm hanging out at a local eatery, using a taco to soak up the vodka running through my system when Charlotte walks in.

"Charlotte," I call across the room. She ignores me. It's past midnight and the place we're at is always loud, full of drunks and partiers.

Then the door doesn't shut, so she kicks it really hard and the owner stands alert. I start to worry.

"Charlotte."

"Charlotte!"

She comes over to my table. "Stop yelling my name."

"Sit your ass down, are you okay?"

"No, I'm angry," she says then her head does the downward drunken nod and I'm sure the room is spinning. She puts her fingers in my food.

"I'm taking you home, get your food to go," I say, "and I'm only staying for one minute to make sure you're okay."

I kept saying, one minute, because if she was going to remember pieces of the night, I want her to remember that nothing happened between us when I got her home.

"I need cigarettes," she kept saying so I brought her to the liquor store and instead of pointing at the blue American Spirits, she hits the cigarette shelf above the cash register and three packs fly onto the counter. She grabs all three and tries to run and I take her arm and pull her back.

"Where's you money?"

She only had a dollar on her, so I put a five on the counter and gave two packs back and took her to her place.

"Shut the door," she said regarding the downstairs door.

"I'm here for one minute, so I'll shut it on the way out."

She's trouble and she's hot. Sexy. Dark hair, dark eyes and lips that need some good lickin'.

In the kitchen I tried to make her drink water and she wouldn't drink it. I asked if she'll be ok and she nodded her head and I left. I believe she has experience in this drunken state, and it makes me feel less bad that my drinking as escalated since my ex left me.

I went to another bar up the street and saw a friend of mine who's a chef at a restaurant. I ordered a glass of wine and a girl from India sat at the bar stool next to me and we started talking. It turned out she was half Chinese and half Black. A tasty cultural recipe of full lips, dark penetrating eyes and slightly crooked teeth that I wanted to run my tongue over.

I didn't think too much more about her as we talked and she found out what I did for a living and we have similar careers, except hers is more on a corporate level so she makes a ton more cash. And we talked books.

"Do you want to go outside and smoke cigarettes and talk about literature," she asked.

I looked at her like she just took all her clothes off and asked if I'd like to do things to her that are illegal in certain states.

I told her my situation and she told me she had a messy break up six months earlier.

Outside we talked, then we went in and had more wine and waited for her chef friend to finally leave since it was after last call. She grabbed my hand and said, "Let's go to the car and smoke some more."

We smoked and talked and her chef friend approached the car to take something out of the back seat.

My heart, my soul slowly wrapped their tentacles around her. My emotions were spiking. I was falling in love. Serious love. Let's move in together love.

She was about five foot ten and slender. One of those women where if the sex needed to get a little rough I could pick her up and throw her against a wall.

I was scared to death of these emotions. It was too early. I had my one night stand, but this was different.

She drove me to my apartment and looked into my eyes in silence.

I took a puff on my cigarette and I never ask a girl to kiss her, but I wanted to set a limit so I said, "I'm going to give you a quick kiss, and then I'm leaving."

She slightly nodded and I went in to touch my lips with her full dark luscious lips and it was a go. Full on make out session. Deep tongue kissing and after about two minutes of mouth love she started jumping around.

"Your cigarette ash," she yelled and I saw it bouncing on the seat and tried to put it out. I completely forgot about the cigarette I had still lit when my hand was on the back of her head.

We got out of the car and she had a hole in her dress. I apologized and felt like such an idiot and she said, "At least I have something to remember you by," which segued into another make out session.

She moaned and kept moving my hands on her breasts and I felt around and even though my testosterone was telling me to take it, to hit this one out of the park, to steal third base and maybe home, my love and emotions got the best of me and we made out for about 45 minutes.

I left without getting or giving her my contact information. I was too scared.

All the next day I couldn't get her out of my head, so I went to the chef's work and said, "Give this to Tania so she has my contact info and can get in touch with me."

It has been a week and I haven't heard a thing. I wish I had sex with her. I wish I played it different. I hope she calls at some point so I can take her on a proper date.

Thursday, July 10, 2008

A Risky Kiss

My soundtrack is Jonathan Richman. “I’m so Confused”, “True Love Is Not Nice”, “She’s Cracked”. Jonathan performed four nights at the Makeout Room in celebration of his latest release and I went to two of the gigs with my friend Roberta. Roberta is attractive and smart and I want to have sex with her. I want to have sex with many people. I need to catch up to my age. You know how they say, he’s 18 but his reading level is 4th grade. I’m 38 and my sex level is 18. There are no college girls lifting their shirts for me, no frat parties that I would fit in at, or care to be at, and no one who would get my reference “no, Chuck, we didn’t have a love connection” when I talk about a date gone wrong.

I danced and sang and Jonathan commanded the audience in his goofy way.

Roberta and me ended up at a bar a few nights later and we both had a few. I started kissing on her and cuddling with her and she whispered, ‘I know you need this now’. I told you she was smart. She nibbled on my ears and I kissed her neck and we found ourselves at the house of a lady who usually has a lot of cocaine to share (remember, I’m in the music business and that’s all I can say). Lady of the cocaine didn’t offer the mountain of coke that was passed around last time, a definite reflection on the current U.S. economy.

Roberta’s friend got way too drunk, so we stopped our cuddles and nibbles and took her home. Roberta is a workmate of mine, so I could see things getting sketchy. I drop her off at her apartment and she says, “This isn’t going to be weird tomorrow, is it?”

“No, of course not,” I lied.

I seriously thought there was a chance I was heading upstairs and into the various folds of her tender parts, but no such luck.

I felt weird the next day. I felt like I shouldn’t have pawed her to death. I felt like I needed to say something. We did talk and Roberta is top on my list for beautiful and amazing people on this Earth. Will we kiss again? Maybe. But there’s no pressure either way and I don’t want to cock block her from guys she’s after and she doesn’t want to on my end. Since I have a good amount of tampons at the apartment I need to vacate so my cheating ex can move back in and live her plastic life, I’m making sure Roberta is stocked in tampons for the next few months.

Lesson learned. Don’t kiss friends, unless you really want to take it to the next level or they’re as amazing as Roberta. And there aren’t many Roberta’s on this planet, but the spark just isn’t there. No, I should say the spark is there, but not flaming enough to risk ruining a great friendship over.

Of course I still want to have sex with her. I’m a man.

Wednesday, July 9, 2008

The lips of a bartender

I've had a crush on a bartender at a place I frequent. She flipped out when I told her about what my ex did to me.

During the dark days when there was no movement in my penis, I went to the bar and drank and gazed into her hazel eyes and luscious lips and ached to see her boobs. After I was officially single again I said to myself, I want her.

Her.

Camille and I are about the same age. I didn't know her situation, but I told her, and continue to tell her I have a crush on her.

One night, after I went to see some bands play, I ended up at Camille's bar for a night cap. Which turned into Camille pouring shot after shot for me and her. I had Xanax earlier to deal with the emotional crap and I blacked out when I mix pills with booze.

The next thing I remember Camille and I are out front of her bar, holding hands and she says, "We should probably stop making out since we're both drunk."

What?! I don't remember making out with her. The part I should have blacked out on was when she said that. I kissed those lips. I licked her tongue. I can't remember a thing.

I went back the next night and said, "Camille, about last night -" and she interrupted, "Stop, don't say a thing, you know I love you." I wanted to find out how long we were kissing for and if we can give it another go while I was coherent. No such luck. I gazed like a school boy who has a hot English teacher as she bounced up and down the bar pouring drinks for the hipsters, the drunks and the restaurant workers who usually end up there.

I'm not the only one who ogles Camille. Other guys come in and watch her with their puppy dog eyes. She works the room. She's better than any entertainer.

I don't remember kissing her. My first post breakup kiss, kaput in the alcohol soaked memory.

Tuesday, July 8, 2008

She Left Me

After months of despair, where I couldn't even fathom having an erection much less masturbating....after wishing there was a gun in the house to make the heartache go away with a bullet....after drinking myself into oblivion over and over, after 13 years of monogamy with one woman who had been cheating on me I was thrust into the world of dating.

The last time I dated Kurt Cobain was still alive. The last time I dated I weighed 160 and had long hair. The last time I dated I was a fundamentalist Christian and didn't have sex with a woman until I was married.

I never left the music scene, but over the last 13 years there was a no fly zone sign on my heart. When women showed interest I'd casually tell them my wife has a pair of shoes exactly like that, "where did you get them".

Now the barrier is dropped and a new sign has been erected. Available. Single. The fine print said, Desperate.

Beyond the dark days of depression and after processing what was going on, but still in the middle of the divorce, I grabbed a Playboy to see if anything would move down there. I finished masturbating and was sure all my parts fully functioned.

1:45am, I was at a local bar and sat next to a girl from New York. She was in a similar profession and we discussed books. At 2:15am we were naked. It started with a kiss, then she said, "If we're going to do anything we have to do it fast before Tim comes home."

She was staying one night with a friend of a friend and wasn't sure how cool it would be to have two strangers fucking in his house.

We ripped our clothes off and I was at full attention.

I remembered the scene in Trainspotting when Atomic by Blondie was playing and everyone was jumping out of their clothes.

Condom. Condom, was what I kept saying out loud to remind myself of the thing I never thought I'd have to think about in a monogamous, sexually stagnant relationship.

Michelle had a cute birthmark on her right butt cheek and the ass of a pin up model from 1950, back when women were properly curved.

She sucked on my penis and I didn't know the STD probability of that.

Condom. But I really said, "I want to be inside Michelle." She gave me the condom and I whipped it on after a very scary moment of hoping I'd know how to put one on. She jumped on me and started writhing.

She hopped off and for a moment we were in spooning position and I put my finger on her wet vagina.

"I'm pierced," she giggled.

I noticed.

"Do me from behind," she said and she guided it in and I pumped and pumped. She flipped around and we did it missionary.

I said "Oh Michelle," and prayed for a split second her name was Michelle. She moaned and moaned and I pumped and pumped.

"Fuck me, fuck me," she said.

She flipped her legs up and her shins were against my shoulders and I kept pounding.

"Cum in me," she said and I gyrated but couldn't cum. It was obvious she was done, and I couldn't stop thinking that she was the second girl I've ever put my dick in. How I was a 38 year old man and only had sex with two people in my life. Not good thoughts when I should've been focusing on her bouncing freckled breasts.

"It's okay," I said. We laid together naked for a minute when the garage door opened below and we jumped up and put our clothes on as fast as we took them off.

"Your underwear," she pointed to the floor. I forgot to take the condom off, my dick was still hard and my underwear were in my pocket when Tim came upstairs and she and I went outside on the steps.

Michelle was in her summer dress and I sat a few stairs below her, taking in her legs, looking up her dress, knowing that underneath her panties was a pussy that I just explored. I couldn't cum, but I couldn't soften either.

She kept clawing at me and giving me sexy eyes.

Tim invited us to his back patio and wanted to get stoned. I just wanted to fuck her again. Every time he walked back into the house to get a pipe or a beer Michelle grabbed my penis, keeping it hard and throbbing.

He left us alone after an hour and we talked.

I told her she was the second girl I had ever had sex with and that I knew it was a one night stand, but I wanted her to know how important that moment would be for the rest of my life. I felt like crying. We kissed and kissed more and I felt her over her clothes.

I bopped down Tim's stairs in triumph.

I'M BACK!

The stench of my lying, cheating ex-wife was off my mouth and my feet and my loins.

When I got home, the condom wasn't in my pants. I prayed it slipped out as I walked home. I emailed Michelle and she told me it was on the front steps. That's what I get for bopping down the stairs....she said Tim left early in the morning for work, so he definitely saw it, but since it was technically outside his residence and there was no glob of cum in it, we're in the clear.