extra dirty

11 Nov

A few extra dirty martinis in during dinner @ Mohawk Bend in Echo Park (post iam8bit gallery visit), and all this talk about first, second and third base at the table made me want to have a throw down with Guy #2 (we’ll refer to him as the “Skydiver” who happens to be #1 in my book…but we’ll retrace steps later). I’m sorry but yes, I was totally guilty of texting him in mid conversation with my friends. I have no self control whatsoever so when you get drinks in me and get me talking about dudes, all I keep thinking about it making about with a hot dude. In this case, all I wanted to do was crawl onto Guy #2’s couch (who is really my #1), cuddle with him, start watching some random movie on his netflix or computer, and ease into our usual make out sesh.

So yeah, I totally texted him. He drinks Vodka so I simply asked him if he knew how to make a mean martini. Surprisingly, Guy #2 responded right away with some witty quip about dirty martinis.

To which he replies, “Mean is easy. Nice is hard.” Corny but slightly intriguing. At this point he could’ve spoken in pig latin and I would’ve jumped him bones regardless.

At this point I am hooked once again. I’m thinking I can simply jet off to DTLA, make my way up to his loft, get ‘er done, and then mosey on home.

Of course he is about to fall asleep.

Of course this is a bad time because he needs to get up at 3am to get a head start on his weekend trip.

Of course he is super hot even in text form and we have mindless banter. Banter that he tried to steer into “dirty talk” territory. He dives into the whole “send me pictures” bit. Not gonna happen so I steer him away. “Dude, I’m at a bar so I’m sure I would turn heads if I take you up on that request.”

(Man, you are so smooth, Guy #2, but I am on to you.) We leave it at, “Let’s hang out when you get back” and I go back to sipping my extra dirty martinis.

This dude is going to be the end of me. I am not sure what I want but all I know is that I am shamelessly hooked. He is my meth or crack cocaine. Our random text messages are my little hits throughout the week. I love and hate him. You will read more about him when I time travel and retrace my steps. He will be my demise, I am sure of it. But man, I am jonesing on him like woah!

As we wait for our friend’s car to get brought up by valet, one friend asked how I could do that – just hook up and be fine with it tonight.

“Maybe I’m just heartless. But I’m sure it will bite me in the ass and I will be bawling on my bathroom floor in a few months because I am in over my head…”

She calls me bold. I put that in my back pocket and go home.

That was last night. Who knows what kind of trouble I will get in tonight. We are cabbing it. We will be drinking profusely. Living large.


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