Friday, April 13

Random One-Night Stand: Maple syrup

You can thank Rockstar for this post. I mentioned this the other day and she said I should write about it. It's with this little anecdote that I have decided NOT to share this blog with my parents. EVER.

And Brother Thighs, stop reading. It's like about sex and stuff.

I went out for drinks with this guy at OTW, one of my favorite bars at the time. The date was boring so I decided to hit on the bartender because really, who doesn't flirt with other people when on a date? Let's call the bartender Old.

Old practically splooged in my eye the minute I said I wanted to kiss him. When my date came back, Old and I slipped off to make out in the corner. We exchanged numbers and went out the following week.

Old and I met at OTW then to an awesome steakhouse for dinner. He went all out: oysters, lobster, steak, few bottles of wine, the works. I knew it was expensive so naturally I decided to bang him as a thank you.

I don't recall discussing sex during dinner, so at some point during either the cab ride home or the joint we smoked at his apartment we must have talked about it. I say this because when we were in bed Old decided to go look for honey.

Now I'm a tri-sexual (I'll try anything once) and I gotta tell you, I HATE mixing food and sex. Whip cream, chocolate syrup, bananas in the cooch, it's retarded. I can't imagine telling Old I thought pouring honey on ourselves would be hot, but yeah he ran to the kitchen like a man on a mission.

When Old came back we started making out so I didn't notice what he brought back with him . He gently poured the honey on me and then with his nervous Old-self managed to spill like half the bottle on my breasts. Then I realized it wasn't honey...
it was fucking maple syrup. I won't go into the details. All you need to know is that it was the grossest thing ever.

The Cab of Shame home was awful. I smelled like a Waffle Whore-House. I never wanted to talk to him again, but despite being 10 years my senior (hence the Old) I don't think he had many sexual experiences so he wouldn't stop calling me.

When I couldn't avoid him anymore I answered and said to please stop calling me. He said something like "I spent $400 on dinner and you won't go out with me again?" I said, "Sorry HONEY but no fucking way." and hung up.

It was this little incident that made me keep my dick in my pants. (I don't actually have a dick, but what should girls say, keep the car out of the garage? hot dog out of the bun? plug from the socket?) I stopped sleeping around after my night with Old. Well maybe not completely, but I definitely slowed down.

Ironically I think me and my friends are going to drink at OTW tomorrow. I haven't been there in over two years. If Old is still there I will laugh my ass off...and pray to god he doesn't have any syrup behind the bar.

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