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.
One Sunday afternoon I found myself in an all too familiar situation… I was on a date and I had no idea. A friend of mine asked me if I wanted to grab a bite, so I met him downtown. A turkey sandwich and three beers later the check came. He grabbed the check quickly and refused to let me pay for my meal and drinks. I know most men thinks it’s the polite thing to do and it is on a first date BUT to my knowledge this wasn’t a date. I couldn’t help but feel obligated to grab a drink with him. A drink turned into several drinks and before I knew it he was inviting me back to his place to “watch a movie.” AlI I wanted was to go home and binge watch Seinfeld until I passed out… but the 40 minute drunk subway ride back to my apartment wasn’t very appealing. One minute I was falling asleep on his couch the next minute we were making out. It’s safe to say it was the alcohol that decided it would be a good idea sleep with him. When I woke up all I could think was OH SHIT. I got dressed while he sat on his bed texting. He looked up at me and said, “I’m not looking for a serious relationship.” WHEN DID I SAY I WAS!? Did he really think a drunk hookup was my way of starting a committed long term relationship? No. I thought we were just grabbing a bite. I left and quickly added him to my list of drunken mistakes.. aka The Oh Shit list.
When I opened my eyes his hand was firmly cupping my left boob.. under the shirt, over the bra. I turned onto my stomach freeing my breast. I couldn’t hold my pee any longer so I turned around and sat up…. There he was laying on his side, leaning on his arm starring at me. Our eyes met and he smiled. I attempted to smile back but I doubt it was convincing. I told him I needed to pee and go home. He sighed and said ” But you said you were off tomorrow. ” and damn it, I did say that. I told him I still had things to do and just needed to go home. He continued to question every aspect of my story. Truth is my story was bullshit… Obviously bullshit. Yeah, I am lying and you know… Let’s avoid the awkward banter and just let me go. Do you really want me to say the truth… “you’re creeping me out, why are you laying like that? Your apartment is too hot, your bed in uncomfortable, it smells funny in here and you are cuddle groping me.” I’m just trying to be polite. When I walked out he told me he would call me later… another polite lie.
Growing up on Long Island I am use to the ” walk of shame ” consisting of :
1) Strutting from his door to my car as quick as possible.
2) Driving home comfortably.
3) Quietly sneaking into my house with sex hair trying to avoid my parents.
Thanks to my low income job and my asshole date I didn’t have the luxury of a car/cab during my first walk of shame in NYC. I immediately regretted the decision to spend the night when I woke up in a un-air conditioned room being cuddled to death. Taking a shower wasn’t an option so I fixed myself up the best I could. I walked out onto 66th and 5th with a dress from the previous night and smudged mascara. After wasting 10 minutes walking in the wrong direction I eventually found the subway. Of course my train was delayed. I waited over a half hour, in 90 degree weather, hungover and surely being judged. I should of expected to run into someone important – because that always happens when you look like shit – so of course I ran into a Professor of mine. I tried to avoid eye contact but eventually he came over to say ” Hi.” GREAT, class tomorrow shouldn’t be awkward at all. Almost two hours later I finally arrived home after receiving one last dirty look from my door man.