Wednesday, May 6, 2009


Another story from senior year of college, obviously. Out at Our House (the bar) with my friends. I meet this dude, we'll call him Worcester. We meet, he dazzles me with his skills at Big Buck Hunter (the game, in case there was any confusion for the perverts) and we proceed to make out on my front stoop for two hours after last call. He asks if he can come in and I give him the "I'm not that kind of girl" speech even though, hey, sometimes I am that kind of girl. We exchange numbers and he goes on his merry little way.

We talk often over the next couple of weeks, and eventually make plans to hang out again. I was beginning to think that maybe, just maybe, I had met a normal guy at a bar. That is, until one night my phone rings at 4:30 am:

Worcester: Hey baby
Me: Uhh.. hi?
Worcester: Were you sleeping?
Me: Yea, well you know it's pretty late..
Worcester: What are you wearing?
Me: Huh? I'm wearing pajamas because I was asleep?
Worcester: That's so hot.. I'm touching myself thinking about it
Me: Wait, what? Why are you doing that?
Worcester: Because I can't stop thinking about you.
Me: Well stop. It's late, I'm tired, and that's weird.
Worcester: Come on.. just a little phone sex..

Yea that was the end of that, and the last time I ever spoke to him. I'm pretty sure that it's not okay to try to initiate phone sex before you've even been out on a proper first date. I'm definitely not that kind of girl. Sorry dude.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

What an idiot . . . who raised this guy????