At this rate, I'm going to have bad date stories until Jesus comes back again. I don't know where to begin. Today has provided me with three separate appalling date stories. Of course, they'll each receive their own post but this is the most action my connection casualty radar has seen since the start of my blog in November of 2017. This post will be dedicated to Mr. T-Rex. I was going to let this guy slip under the radar because he was a genuinely nice guy. Please take note of the past tense in the previous sentence. I'm about to let him have it. Grab the popcorn and a bottle of tequila. So this bitch-- (that's how you know it's going to be a good story) well... Maybe I should be traditional and start from the beginning. This guy works in the hospital downtown which for all you Texas Folk, it's equivalent to Baylor, for all you New Orleans folk, it's equivalent to Oschner, and to all you South Carolinian Folk it's equivalent to MUSC because that's exactly what it is. So, he saved lives and shit and he claimed it was just as meaningful even though my patients aren't terminal or at risk of keeling over in that very moment. Hopefully. He was chivalrous with bar doors and refusing to let me think about the tab. He also stopped kissing me to ensure that I was okay and wished to continue. Without a doubt in my mind, a second date was a necessity. Even the second date went well. He let me vent about something going on with my roommate and consoled me and brought me home drunk. I think that's a really good date. Then brought me home-- I mean to my house and dropped me off after ensuring I was safely inside. So a gentleman. I don't know if he got bitter or if it was something we both stopped talking to each other or what but our text messages started to drift apart and we kind of stopped talking. Honestly, there were two things I wasn't going to mention... Until he pissed me off last night. Ready? He was short; unlike most girls, this isn't a deal-breaker, it's just not preferred. But I think what made his height less appealing was his incredibly small hands... I guess they weren't necessarily disproportionate, due to his height, which could not have exceeded 5"5, damn they were inches smaller than mine. And that isn't attractive per se... I tried to look past it because he was such a great person and quite the intellect... but the parts of my mind that lurked in the shadows couldn't help but scream micropenis. Now I have not proven this fact but it definitely crossed my mind and was a factor I revealed to my two best friends. Of course they get the 411 on the guys I date... they've been the dress rehearsal to my blog all along. So there never was a third date. I had a bad boy that stole my interest and he kind of phased away himself. A couple weeks later, we sparked up conversation again. He just had a girl he really liked blow him off and I empathized with him. Then we said we could be friends. Conversations were random, but never awkward ... until last night... Before you read what he said to me, you need to know we have literally not breathed a word in each other's direction in over 2 weeks. Also, this was at 7:30pm so, a tad early to be drunk booty call suggestiveness. "So real talk ... my birthday is coming up. And I need a good birthday spanking. Thoughts?" 3 minutes later: "Are you up to the task?" Then he went on to say he would exchange some for my birthday (which my birthday is not close enough to even be referencing). Then when I asked if he was drunk, he made it sound like I was "inexperienced." I'm not taking the bait because you're bored and haven't found anyone else to be your birthday squeeze for your birthday sex or wanting "that cake cake cake cake cake- he wants to lick the icing off." I'm at a loss of words for how to decipher the good from the selfish-seeking boys... We didn't pursue anything, he was a good respectable guy, and now, with his T-Rex hands, asked if I can spank him and hard... I left that part out. I just don't understand. Disrespect me and I'll ridicule you with chop-busting desserts.
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AuthorChef Steph cooking up trouble. If she can't find anything real, she bakes real good sweets. Chocolate really may mend a broken heart... Archives
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