I don't really have anything important to say (as per usual), but I don't want that last blog post to be the first thing people see because it wasn't very nice. Today of course, I no longer want to stab my husband, as the feeling usually passes after a few hours, a good night's sleep or a good...massage. You know.
Speaking of buttsex, (KIDDING) I thought of something funny today. A sexual something funny. No worries; I will always keep it PG13 around these parts.
I was at work for a short time today and went to the campus post office. It was there I saw a very attractive blond man and he looked a lot like someone I once did it with a long time ago, back in the dark ages of the early 90's. The guy was the hotness. It would be a great boon to my ego the fact I slept with him, except he pretty much slept with every female in Citrus County during that time and so I can't claim to be unique in any way. He was the original man-whore.
But one night while out in the woods drinking Busch Light or Keystone or Boones Farm or some combination thereof, the stars aligned just right and I guess it was my turn to take a tumble with good old J. We left the party and went to someone's house; whoever's parents were gone for the weekend, obviously. I had a friend with me, Deb, who was partnered off with one of J's friends and we all went our separate ways into different rooms of the house. Those were the prime drinking days for me, because trust me - I do not have very many one-nighters under my chastity belt. But if you saw this guy back then, trust me - you would've done exactly as I did.
Tall, built but not beefy, blond, blue eyes - just the total textbook Cute Guy. If he looked like that now in these times, he could work for Abercrombie. Back then it could've been Calvin Klein. You get the picture. I don't remember a lot of my thoughts, mostly just being in awe of the fact it was actually happening.
Until it started happening.
I'm not trying to be rude here, but have you ever had sex with someone and were so bored at the time you started thinking about the plans you had for the next day, such as cutting your toenails or baking cupcakes? Perhaps composing a shopping list in your head? Humming the Andy Griffith theme song to yourself - anything to keep up the appearance that you were awake? Well, that's what I found myself doing. I was thinking, "I never do shit like this and THIS IS WHY! Now I have to add to my number and this shouldn't even be counting!" I started thinking of ways to politely ask him to remove himself from me. I'll say this: there's no real tactful way to ask that.
But God or somone must've been feeling sorry for me, because just when I thought I couldn't stand another second, Deb knocked on the door. Everything stopped. I said, "Yes?" She said, "Kim, we really have to get going; I was supposed to be home an hour ago!" I said, "OKAY, DEB!" I remember him looking at me like, You're kidding, right? And I remember shrugging sheepishly and saying something about how her parents would kill her for missing curfew. Luckily he wasn't the date-rape type and grudgingly released me. I had the decency to feel guilty afterwards and figured I may be in for some social atrocities, but he was actually pretty cool about the whole thing and at the next week's beer-in-the-woods party, he joked with me that I owed him one, hugged me and moved onto the next victim, I mean girl.
So, that happened. And to this day I'm mystified by the fact that the hottest specimen I've ever been intimate with (except my husband of course, of course) almost bored me to tears or humming Andy Griffith. Am I defective in some way (don't answer that)? Was it the alcohol? Maybe. Has he gotten better in the years since? For the benefit of whoever his woman is, I really hope so.
This wasn't awkward at all, right?