We made plans to eat an edible and walk around the Museum of Natural History one Saturday. We split the THC chocolate bar in half and an hour later I realized you may have ate too much. I took a look at the box. The directions clearly stated that a serving size was 1/8th of the bar, ooops. I grabbed your hand and we made our way up to the dinosaur exhibit. “Oh I get it,” you stated. “Get what?” “Dinosaurs.” You went on to tell me how people planted fake fossils to mess with everyone. I laughed it off as a high thought.
The next night you came to my apartment, in an area of Brooklyn you most likely never stepped foot in. I spent the night prior scrubbing and reorganizing my apartment in order to create the illusion that I was a mature adult woman but my efforts went unnoticed. Plastic furniture and dinosaur toys just aren’t for adults. You didn’t seem to mind because you sat right on my bed, that laid on the floor without a box spring. We started making out and while I was shaved and ready for penetration I didn’t think you would have been down but I was wrong. You looked me in the eye slowly removed your yamaka while making you way down my body. You started going down on me. I looked at the yamaka upside down on my floor, looked back at you and smiled at the God I don’t believe in.
After we had sex as I laid in your arms you brought up dinosaurs again. Well I mean my walls are covered in pictures of them so I can see where the thought came from. Turns out you seriously didn’t believe in dinosaurs. I spent the night trying to prove you wrong but it didn’t work. Our short relationship ended when I was unable to expand your mind and you were unable to close mine. There was no way I could continuing dating someone who doesn’t believe in dinosaurs.