I've always been amazed at how ridiculously some people behave during sex. What makes them think they could say that, or do that? Obviously things slip out in the heat of the moment, but I've never done anything that cringeworthy and would immediately own up to it if I did.
A couple of years ago, I briefly dated a bartender at a prominent NYC gay bar. Because I don’t hold grudges, I won’t say that the persons name was Jarrod and he worked at Phoenix. If you’re looking for substance, bartenders are not the way to go. They’re really just a small leap up from hookers. They will say and do anything to get as much money from you at the end of the night as they can. By and large, they’re pretty stupid as well. By the second date, I was amazed Jarrod could form complete sentences, let alone double the amount of money that I was making.
As much as he claimed to be looking for something serious, seeing him strip off his clothes within seconds of entering my apartment would seem to contradict this. A few moments later, my face was shoved into a pillow and I was getting the bottom knocked out of me. Maybe Jarrod wasn’t as stupid as he appeared. He obviously knew his away around a dude.
Then it happened. After an hour of pure bliss, the primal grunts emerging from his throat signaled that the end was near.
“I’m almost there. Yeah…yeah…ohhh, weeerrrrddd!!!!"
It would probably be helpful to note at this juncture that Jarrod isn’t black, but in fact a white boy from North Carolina. He was still inside of me and at this point, it felt like rape. Werd?! Was he fucking serious? What do I say to that?
“Shazam!” I yelled back.
He wrapped his arms around me and settled into spooning position. Normally, I’m a huge advocate of cuddling, but I could no longer take him seriously. He had morphed into a douchebag within a matter of seconds. Celebrity Apprentice was coming on in 10 minutes, and I wanted him out of my apartment.
“This is kind of awkward,” I said. “But you need to leave now.”
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Werd?!”
“It slipped out.”
“Werd doesn’t slip out,” I shot back. “You’ve clearly done that more than once, because any normal person would be embarrassed beyond belief right now.”
I motioned my head towards the door, fully accepting the consequence of paying for my drinks in full at the Phoenix from here on in.
Naturally, I relayed this story to anyone within earshot for the next two weeks. The only complaint they had was that I didn’t do something morecreative besides motion towards the door when kicking him out of my apartment.
As much as he claimed to be looking for something serious, seeing him strip off his clothes within seconds of entering my apartment would seem to contradict this. A few moments later, my face was shoved into a pillow and I was getting the bottom knocked out of me. Maybe Jarrod wasn’t as stupid as he appeared. He obviously knew his away around a dude.
Then it happened. After an hour of pure bliss, the primal grunts emerging from his throat signaled that the end was near.
“I’m almost there. Yeah…yeah…ohhh, weeerrrrddd!!!!"
It would probably be helpful to note at this juncture that Jarrod isn’t black, but in fact a white boy from North Carolina. He was still inside of me and at this point, it felt like rape. Werd?! Was he fucking serious? What do I say to that?
“Shazam!” I yelled back.
He wrapped his arms around me and settled into spooning position. Normally, I’m a huge advocate of cuddling, but I could no longer take him seriously. He had morphed into a douchebag within a matter of seconds. Celebrity Apprentice was coming on in 10 minutes, and I wanted him out of my apartment.
“This is kind of awkward,” I said. “But you need to leave now.”
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Werd?!”
“It slipped out.”
“Werd doesn’t slip out,” I shot back. “You’ve clearly done that more than once, because any normal person would be embarrassed beyond belief right now.”
I motioned my head towards the door, fully accepting the consequence of paying for my drinks in full at the Phoenix from here on in.
Naturally, I relayed this story to anyone within earshot for the next two weeks. The only complaint they had was that I didn’t do something morecreative besides motion towards the door when kicking him out of my apartment.
The next time I want to kick someone out, I will be using reality show catchphrases. Think about it. The same way you eliminate someone from The Bachelor applies to eliminating someone from your personal life. You’re fired. The tribe has spoken. Your time is up. Your tour ends here. Your shot at love is over. You’re just not a good thing. Pack up your knives and go. Sashay away. And my personal favorite, I’m going to have send you upstairs to clean up your space.
And if you're wondering what happened to Jarrod, he got fired from Phoenix 2 weeks later. Weerdddd.
As you know in fashion, one day you are in, and the next you are OUT.
ReplyDeleteI've kicked out so many boys recently, often for no or for merely imagined reasons. It's just what I do. I can't let them think the power relations have shifted by fucking me. By kicking them out in some weird way it reassures me that *I* fucked *them*. Werd.
But if the sex was "pure bliss" I probably would have let it slide. Just uh, never fucking say that again, okay?
Oh and great accompanying graphic.
This is awesome! I am totally implementing the dismissal phrases into my post booty vocabulary! Hilarious!
ReplyDelete