Just The Tip Please

In my last trip to Vegas I was on a mission to get laid!  Seriously people it’s been awhile.  So my friend and I headed out to a club dressed to impress some boys.  And I found one, he was tall, muscular and cute.  Cha–Ching!  We danced for a bit, chatted, had a drink and then he was leaving, and inviting me to the Terribles Hotel.  As far as I know the only Terribles is in Primm, 40 miles outside of Las Vegas.  So I decline, he leaves, but continues to text to try and lore me to this far away hotel by promising to pay the cab fare.  I still continue to decline; no one is going 40 miles for sex I don’t care how long it has been or how big his muscles are!  Well, my friend and I are in the cab back to our hotel, and the boy is still texting and I continue to decline.  So, my friend decides to ask the cab driver where Terribles is and he’s like, “Right down the street.”

Cut to me in a cab on my way over to meet him.  I get there, he gets me from downstairs, we walk into his room, and I look around, turn back…he’s naked.  This guy wastes no time!  I’m into that…no point in watching TV, we both know why I’m here at 3:00am.  Two minutes later I am right there with him.  We are hooking up for a bit and the inevitable question of sex comes up.  PERFECT!!  But no one is having sex that isn’t safe…‘Condom?’ His answer, “No!”  THIS GUY CAN’T BE FOR REAL!  So, then seriously what am I doing here?  And then he asks that faithful question… “How about just the tip?”  Of course he asks that…uh sorry that is not going to happen.  So what do I do, I grab my clothes and tell him, ‘I’m just gonna go!’  BUT, I don’t have any cash to get home and he promised the cab fare.  I asked him for the $20 to get a cab home…yes I actually did it and he gave it to me.  Now I know how a hooker feels, but at least hookers get some!  On the ride back to LA in the morning my friend and I are chatting about how ridiculous the evening was and how I’m kinda a hooker…haha.  I make her check her txt messages because I am not sure of the time line that this all went down…ladies in gentleman that magnificent train wreck of an evening only lasted 17 minutes!  Yup, 17 minutes of a not so great make out, but at least I didn’t have to drive all the way to Primm!  So the moral of the story guys, always carry a Trojan chances are it will get you laid.

Lord knows it wasn’t my intention, but there are some people that you just connect to and have chemistry with.  And unfortunately, more often than not, especially in my case, the dreaded EX comes in at the top of the list.  Now, add the consumption of several glasses of wine on an empty stomach, a slick DJ pumping 70’s classics, and the knowing smile of a ex boyfriend as he talks to you while you’re both probably thinking, “it would be pretty great to fuck you right now.”  

Well i at least that’s what I was thinking.

Before you know it, you’re grinding on a guy you know is bad news for your heart and you’re both leaving the bar and walking into the foreign territory that is his apartment, the place he set up shop right after he moved out of “our place” – now, granted, i’d love to believe that this den of inequity consisted of 4 bare white walls, clothes strewn about, and a dirty mattress on the floor in the corner with a lamp and a framed picture of yours truly.  However, reality was like taking a bullet.  In the light of morning, after the ripping off of clothes, and the slight memory of sex you know was great, but can’t quite remember when it ended and sleep began, i looked around at an apartment that was adult, clean, and upsettingly enough, completely void of me.  I got up and collected my things as the ex still slept, and on my walk of shame down sunset blvd at 830 the next morning, it became alarmingly clear that while part of me still feels THIS guy will be the LAST guy, i need to have sex with someone else, STAT.

Advice, out there?

I met a bartender over the summer while I was out with one of my friends.  We talked for most of the night; he gave us free drinks, than offered us a ride home.  And our dumbasses took it!  He dropped my friend off first, and when we got to my apartment, we were sitting in his truck and he made a move.  I was making out with this guy thinking – I have the spins and this is really dumb!  The make out was fine, not great, but I’ve had worse.  I was leaving the truck and he got my number.  He said, “Don’t worry I’ll call.”  At that point I didn’t really care or not.  Then, just to reaffirm that he would call, he added, ”I’m going to call you because…I want to find out how you taste.”  Who do these guys think they are?!  He has since called around 30 times and I have not once responded, but he calls every now and then.  Now if that was a girl calling a guy over and over again, we’d be crazy, but apparently that rule doesn’t apply to men!

Dogs were never really my forte, growing up I remember sitting under my great aunt’s kitchen table, scared to death, as larger than life dogs surrounded me..who knows where my mother was or any other relative for that matter, but little did I know twenty something years later, a dog, would save my dignity, well some of it anyway.

I’d been dating this guy for a short time.  On this particular evening I went to “Stu’s” house, we had drinks at a local bar talked and talked, and of course ended up back at his house, on the couch making out.  Then we moved to the bedroom…So every girl knows if it’s the end of her ‘cycle’ and she’s with a guy she better make damn sure it’s not making a heavy cameo.   And at that moment mine wasn’t.  So, what the hell why not go for it?!  We hooked up for a while and it was pretty good.  Fast forward to the part where I can’t really find my bra or pants, and he goes downstairs to write me directions out of this far away valley land.  Like any girl would do in this situation I turn on a light to find my clothes, and low and behold what’s staring back at me, but BLOOD all over this poor guy’s nice bed spread.  PANIC ATTACK!  Pacing in the bathroom – a million thoughts running through my head, should I wet it, should I use a towel, tissues, toilet paper..should I just leave and never talk to this guy again…I mean he’s good, but not that good.  YES I’M OUT!  As I make my way out of the bathroom, I’m shocked, ecstatic and somewhat disgusted, but so extremely thankful all at the same time, because ‘my hero’ Stu’s dog has cleaned the entire bed spread with his tongue, leaving not a drop of blood behind…and that ladies in gentleman is why NOW…I LOVE DOGS!!

Most people have typical things they do in a weekend:  grocery shop, go to the gym, meet friends for brunch.  But I think there is another thing most guys and girls have in common that takes place on the weekends…drunk texting.  Everyone is guilty of sending or receiving them. But since when did it become texts that come in at 3am saying “I feel like eating pussy…you got any toys?” or “I want to tease you until you are so fucking wet…Then you tell me where to put it…I am getting hard just thinking about it.”  Or my favorite that arrived one Sunday MORNING at 5:30am…“You feel like some morning cock?”   FELLA, PLEASE! Do you kiss your mothers with that mouth!?!?