The Date: Floppy and Lynx

Background information you should know. If you refer back to the Dodecahedron of Lust entry, Floppy was after Talyn. Well apparently Floppy is now after me. We were at a bar for a friend’s birthday, I was wanting to leave as soon as we got there, but every time I thought about it someone new came in that I had to stay and talk to. I finally got my way out when Floppy said he had to meet up with his roommate at Wall St. Before leaving, Oscara pulled me aside and said that Floppy was into me, he’d been looking at me all night. I’m usually pretty good at picking up on these things, but I was so fucked up I guess I missed it because I didn’t believe her and we went on our way.

Long story short, Floppy and I wound up taking a cab back. The cab driver was pissy for some reason and wouldn’t take my credit card so Floppy paid $40 in cash. I felt bad and told him I owed him. Two days later I got his number from a mutual friend and I asked Floppy if he wanted to grab some food and watch football. He was up for it. When the games were over, I asked him if he was feeling spontaneous enough to watch a movie. He said yes. I thought we were hanging out. Mostly everybody else thought it was a date, which then made me worry if Floppy thought it was a date. This is just bad news bears, I don’t want to be linked up with another law student!

Lynx: Fresh is saying that me and Floppy went on a date. Do you think me buying him lunch and drinks and taking him to a movie, and spending 10 hours together constitutes as a date?

Bad-Ass: Yes. Lol. Idiot. Did you touch his wenis?

Lynx: No! Nothing romantic happened. I don’t think he tried anything sober.

Bad-Ass: So it was a really lame date lol

Ivy Blow

I was talking to Bad-Ass about a guy. I suspect this guy will know who he is, but as long as I don’t tag him we will all have to wonder.

Lynx: It seems that I’m the one who has the problem with the ivy league stuff but I wonder if he does care but just doesn’t say it. Like,

She’s beneath me cuz she didn’t go to Northwestern or The University of Chicago, but she’s hot so I guess I can try to bang her if I can get it up. Maybe she’ll let me do some blow off her ass crack like the dirty public university whore she is.

Bad-Ass: I’m seriously chuckling out loud, that was funny. Even the playing field. So what if he’s a goddamn genius? You’re funny as shit.

In Which The Bears Lose To The Rams

 

I’m going to be serious for a moment. Not many people are aware that I don’t like gamblers. Growing up, I saw how it affected many Asian families and I vowed I would never end up like them. I only saw the misery and heartache it caused. My own mother is somehow convinced that I will wind up spending the rest of my days with a drunkard who gambles our money away, and she believes as a result he will force me to live in squalor.

I like proving my mother wrong. Which brings me to a conversation I had with Sloppy Shot. He suggested that he screen any potential guys I wanted to date. He asked me what qualities I liked and which ones were absolute deal breakers. Among the latter, I mentioned that I wouldn’t give a gambler a chance. I was pretty firm with this decision until Sloppy Shot tried to reason with me. And since I know that Sloppy Shot has my best interests at heart, I thought about it for a moment. Was it really that undesirable? Did it matter? I mean, it’s better to have a guy who plays poker than be into Dungeons & Dragons, right?

 

Sloppy Shot: “You’re being ridiculous. Every guy has to gamble a little bit. You would seriously not date a guy just because him and his buddies play Texas Hold ‘Em once in a while?”
Lynx: “Okay fine. If he makes your cut then I won’t hold gambling against him.”

 

November 2008

I was over at Langdon’s watching the Bears vs. Rams game. Langdon’s roommates are not Bears fans (Slim-Vikings and Tad-Packers), and were rooting for the failure of Chicago. Langdon was basically on his phone the whole time during the game. I heard words that kept ending in -hundred and I figured that he had put money down for a Bears win. How much he had riding on the game, I never knew. Anyone who saw that game knows what happens next.

Lynx: “Did that just happen? THEY LOST TO THE RAMS!!”
Langdon: “FUCK. Hey baby… it’s not like you like going out to fancy places.”
Lynx: “What?”
Langdon: “We’re going to have to stay in for the next 3 weeks.”
Lynx: “WHAT?”
Langdon: “But it’s okay because you don’t like fancy places anyway, right?”
Lynx: -trying to hide disgust- “Does this mean I have to buy us dinner at Hooters from now on?”

Prelude to Hooters

I was bored and chatting to Maldonado one day on Facebook. 

Maldonado: “I need food.”

Lynx: “I need food as well! Is Mr. Wiggles working today?”

Maldonado: “Yeah he said he’s gonna call me when he gets off. And then I’m going to get food somewhere.”

Lynx: “He’s been itching for Hooters.”

Maldonado: ”He always is.”

Lynx: “If I had a dick, I don’t know what happened that I’m flacid everytime I think of that place.”

Maldonado: “Hahaha.”

 

I used to LOVE going to Hooters. Awesome wings and hot (usually) girls to look at, I was in heaven. I would cream myself just thinking about it. Hooters can make or break a date. Guys think I bring them there to pass a test. You know the one. Do I look at the other waitresses in front of her and not get laid, or do I pretend to hate the place so I can get laid? My test however was/is pretty simple. Is he okay with me looking at other girls? Is he high maintenance because he wants to be somewhere classy instead of Hooters? I also judge him on the type of girls he’s brought to Hooters. If he’s never brought a girl to Hooters, he gets booted. If his past girlfriends hated being at Hooters, he gets booted. I don’t think there’s any reason to my methodology. 

 

I haven’t eaten Hooters wings since the Superbowl. I also haven’t stepped inside a Hooters since January. I’ll share that story later. It has to do with a waitress. A really hot waitress who gave me her phone number. 

Blue Whales

This is another Bad-Ass/Lynx exchange. Bad-Ass likes pretend he’s “working” but is always chatting on Facebook and watching The Daily Show while he’s on the company clock. I was looking over a log (yes I log my AIM conversations, how else am I supposed to remember what people say to me?), it was a conversation I had with a guy named Spencer. I was digging the guy and I felt that he had been trying to play a cat and mouse game with me. I was re-reading to see if there was something I had missed in-between the lines.

Lynx: I should do ‘Anatomy of a Conversation.’

In line 7 begins his ascent into douchebaggery. By line 11, he is in full swing and wields the douchebag factor like a blue whale and its 8 foot cock.*

Bad-Ass: LMAO What?! I kinda hope that’s about me, at least I inspired you to something so funny!
Lynx: Suuure
Bad-Ass: Where’d you get that from?
Lynx: Me reading Sunday night’s conversation with Spencer, and me trying not to feel shammed.

* Google the size of a blue whale penis. You’ll find that I’m right.

St. Patty’s Day

Last night Sloppy Shot, Ricky Rousse and I went to the Fox and Hound to celebrate St.Patty’s Day. For a place that’s styled as an English Public House (Pub), it was pretty rocking for an Irish holiday. We met up at Sloppy Shot’s. I was the only one greened out and the only one to wear party beads. For a moment I was afraid that I was somehow out of the St. Patty’s Day loop and that perhaps I would be the only jackass looking like that, so I gave some of my beads (hard earned from a fratty Mardi Gras party years earlier and some remnants from Chicago’s Beerfest) to Sloppy Shot and Ricky Rousse, so I wouldn’t look like an overexcited douchebag. We arrived and I learned that there were more people way more excited than me about St. Patty’s Day. I definitely was not out of place.

We were waiting on Boomp, Honey, and Lyle Harris to show up, and we started drinking without them. I don’t know how I forgot this, but when the waitress gave me my beer I almost thought she had the wrong order. Miller Lite doesn’t come in green! I tasted it to see if I could tell it was green. The aftertaste was horrible, but it could have been because it wasn’t ice cold- the way I like my Miller. I tried to finish the nasty beer as quick as I could and then ordered a Stella, which to my relief was not green and nasty. Ricky Rousse and I were supposed to play a game of “Have you met the Lynx?” But I wussed out, even though I had the perfect opportunity with all the other drunkards who had come out to celebrate St. Patty’s Day.

I started telling them about this guy (his name was Spencer) I was kind of interested in, wanting their opinions. There wasn’t much to speculate on, so this may be continued in another blog entry if something happens between me and him. Anyway, so I was saying where he was from, where he went to school (really good national schools) and upon mentioning the fact that he had gotten an MBA, I stopped talking and had this faraway look in my eye with a silly smile on my face.

Let’s be honest. I creamed myself and thought about how I wanted to fuck him if I ever got the chance.  Sloppy Shot called me out on it.

Sloppy Shot: “Oh my God! In that second and a half, she just fucked him!”
Ricky Rousse: “If only more girls reacted like that to a guy with an education.”
Lynx: “Hey, it’s hot! I can’t help it!”
Ricky Rousse: “Aren’t you tired of being single? If you like him, you shouldn’t fuck this guy. Now are you ready to do ‘Have you met the Lynx?’ There’s a lot of drunk guys up in this place.”

Wild Turkey Night

November 2008

This is when I found out the guy I was seeing was a big blubbering emotional pussy. Not an attractive trait by any means.

Thanksgiving night I head over to Langdon’s. I receive some texts from Tad saying that they’ve been drinking Wild Turkey and that Langdon is going to be passed out when I arrive. I don’t think anything of this and I don’t believe Tad. That was my second mistake, the first mistake being that I actually went over to their townhouse. I show up, barely say hi to Tad, and I find Langdon passed out in his bed, wearing only a hoodie and boxers which are inside out.

I gently shake him to wake him up. He pulls me down to him, we start making out and get right down to business. I’m so happy that a guy has finally gotten the idea, to just take me when I come into a room and have our clothes come flying off. I climbed on top of him and start fucking him. About 10 minutes of my boobs bouncing in his face, out of nowhere Langdon says “You’re using me for sex.”

Excuse me? I’m using him for sex? I stop moving my hips and I say, “What the fuck? Who attacked who when I got here?? Why would you say that I’m using you for sex?”

His drunk ass has no coherent response, so I continue to fuck him. I thought there would be no more comments from Langdon. I really don’t like talking during sex. I may do the occasional “Fuck me harder!” or “Spank me!” but I don’t ask “Honey, how was your day?” If he wants to keep me satisfied, he needs to shut his mouth.

Another 10 minutes go by. Drunk Langdon starts talking again, “I want to fly you to Pittsburgh for my company’s holiday party.”

Well that’s awesome but I don’t stop riding him, fully aware that I’m the only one taking the sexing seriously. I’m not losing my rhythm again for drunk babble, but Langdon doesn’t shut up!

Langdon: “I’ve been after you for a year and a half.”
Lynx: “Are you dicking me around?”
Langdon: “You’re my girl, I’m becoming obsessed with you. I like you so much. “

Oh shit. What the fuck? Now is not the time for this kind of talk! Once again I’m forced to stop grinding my hips with his cock inside me. I’m more than irritated at this point. I was totally dominating him. You know how a girl can ride a guy so good/hard, that she is really the one who’s fucking him? That was me. I was fucking Langdon. Not the other way around. And I’m actually kind of disgusted that he would pull this shit while I’m trying to get my sex on. So I snap at him and Langdon sounds like he was about ready to cry.

Lynx: “Can we talk about this later?”
Langdon: “I want to be your boyfriend.”
Lynx: “Uhh…what did you say?”
Langdon: “Just tell me I have a chance at being with you. I’ll even take a ‘maybe.’ “
Lynx: “Okay…maybe.”

That seemed to placate him because he kissed me, and I started fucking him again. He didn’t ruin the mood again after that. To be honest it was one of the hottest sessions I’ve ever had. He was drunk off his ass and wasn’t afraid to fuck me hard, something he couldn’t do when he was sober or sobering up when we got home from the bars. We fucked so much that night, his room would reek of sex for over a day. I finally had to say, “We have to stop, my pussy can’t take anymore!”

Right before falling asleep, I ask him if he is going to take back everything he said in the morning. Langdon says no. I also ask if he is going to remember what he said to me. Langdon says yes. I was going to hold him to it.

The next morning we went at it again, but I was too sore to ride him. When we got done with that, I walked out of his room naked to grab a water from the kitchen. I see an empty box on the floor. It’s a Wild Turkey box for 2 bottles. I then realize exactly how much Langdon and Tad drank the night before.

I go back to Langdon and ask if he remembers anything.

Langdon: “Well there’s a condom on the floor, so I know I was responsible last night!”